


When She Lets Me Call Her Mine

by NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl



Series: A Brush With the Devil Can Clear Your Mind [5]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), College, F/M, Fluff and Smut, High School, House-sitting in a giant mansion, Italian Vacation, Prom, Time Travel, Travel, and cataloging a library, mentally ill parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlivesAwl/pseuds/OlivesAwl
Summary: Part 1 complete, left open for future Part 2.----"Parker, we don't have time for this," called Cloak Guy. That was probably Dr. Strange. Who Peter had described as 'kind of an asshole', and considering how fond Peter was of Tony Stark, someone he called an asshole had to be some serious business.MJ poked her head around his shoulder and said, "You're dragging a seventeen year old to go fight a megalomaniacal alien, you can wait thirty seconds for him to say goodbye to his girlfriend."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We started this before saw Far From Home, so it doesn't use anything from that. We fudged around with the dates a little to land Infinity War/Endgame in their senior year in high school. So they could be adults that summer because we like sex in our stories.
> 
> This fic is in two parts. The first is in the immediate Endgame vicinity, during the same chronological period as the other fic in this series, and it's pretty fluffy. The second half of the story is 5 years down the line when they're post-college full adults. The second half isn't written yet, but it's almost a separate story, and I might break it off like that (or just put a tack with a note). But there are 7 chapters to part one, which will be posting Wednesdays.
> 
> The title is from the Mumford & Sons song _Woman_

Peter's morning had started on a school bus, and by the afternoon, he was sitting in the dust on an alien planet. Thanos had vanished into a portal, taking the Time Stone with him. 

They'd lost.

At least that's what Peter assumed. He'd been tossed pretty far, and had to make his way back over, to find all of them sort of sitting around with thousand-yard stares. When he found Mr. Stark he wasn't even wearing his suit anymore.

"You okay?" he asked, holding out a hand to help him up.

"I think so," he said, taking Peter's hand and letting him pull him up. He looked over at Strange. "Now what?"

Strange held up a finger. "Wait."

They all did so, standing around awkwardly waiting for something to happen. After a couple of minutes of this, Mr. Stark gave him a "well?" hand gesture.

After another moment of silence, he nodded. "Okay. He's gone. We can go home."

"Gone?" one of the space people said. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"We're still on the path to winning," Strange said, doing one of his hand gestures and forming a portal. "We'll have to see how it plays out."

On the other side of the portal was New York City. Peter didn't know what was happening with the space people, but Mr. Stark grabbed his arm and pulled him through the portal. They were in Central Park, where people were cleaning up the mess from the fight they'd had with the evil space guy.

"I'll be in touch," Strange said. "It'll be a couple weeks. You might want to get your wife and daughter out of the compound upstate."

"What? Why?" But Strange was already gone.

Mr. Stark blew out a breath, looking as irritated as Peter had ever seen him. Then he seemed to compose himself, and turned to Peter. "You want a ride somewhere?"

"Uh. Yeah. Home?"

He dug in his pockets a moment and pulled out a phone. "Hey Happy. . ." A pause. "Yeah, yeah I did. It's a long story. Can you get a car to Central Park? The kid and I need rides home."

Happy showed up 15 minutes later, by which point they'd drawn a crowd. Peter really wanted to take his suit, or at least the head part, off, but he couldn't. Mrs. Stark had come in the car, and was yelling at her husband about going into space when theycall got back inside. 

"I can't believe you took him with you!"

"He stowed away, I was as pissed as you are."

"That's true," Peter piped up, and they both looked at him like they's forgotten he was there.

Mr. Stark sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Can we finish this fight after we drop Peter off?" he asked, sounding tired. "He's been through enough today."

She held up her hands. "Fine, fine."

The awkward silence as they made their way through Manhattan and over the bridge to Queens wasn't really an improvement. It seemed to take an eternity before they finally pulled up in front of his building. "You want me to come in and let your aunt yell at me a bit?" Mr. Stark asked.

"It's fine," he replied. "I'll sort it out. But thanks."

"All right." He didn't seem to know how to end this. "Thank you for your help. Please never do that again."

Peter nodded, though they both clearly knew it was bullshit. Even Mrs. Stark knew it was bullshit, and her face indicated she really wanted to say so. Peter got out of the car with all due speed.

Aunt May wasn't as mad as he'd thought she'd be. There was a lot of relieved hugging and making sure he was okay. And even she admitted his new suit was amazing. Then she fed him a huge dinner and sent him to bed.

Walking into school the next day felt very weird. And a bit like a sword was hanging over his head.

"Dude!" He spun around to see Ned. "Dude, what happened?"

Ned, at least, he didn't have to think fast for. "I went to space and met aliens!"

"What?! Holy shit!" Ned hugged him, and he felt normal for the first time since he'd seen that weird spaceship floating over the city.

"Come over after school and I'll tell you all about it. I think we might have kinda saved the world."

"Awesome." They fell into step, heading towards class. "No one noticed you climbing out, I don't think. They were too busy looking at the space ship."

"Oh, thank God. Secret is still safe?"

"Far as I can tell."

"Hey Spiderman," MJ said, passing by on her way into the classroom.

Peter froze solid. Ned had to shove him through the doorway. _Oh. Shit._

It was lunchtime before he was able to catch her and hustle her into an empty classroom to confront her. "How did you know?"

"Peter," she said, looking utterly incredulous. "You climbed out a window and hung on the side of a bus with your fingertips."

"Ned said nobody noticed."

"We've known each other four years. You should be aware I notice everything. Also, Ned is not the expert in observation you seem to think he is."

"Does everybody know?" He tried not to sound panicked, but his voice came out embarrassingly high.

Her expression softened. "No. I've been eavesdropping. If anyone else figured it out they're not gossiping about it. Which means they don't know."

"Okay, okay, good." He tipped his head back to look at the ceiling and take a few deep breaths.

MJ gave him a minute, then asked, "So were you born with the ability to cling to walls or. . .?"

He coughed and chuckled. "No. I was bitten by a radioactive spider." It was plain on her face she thought that was, at the very least, funny, if not completely made up. So he added, "Some evil corner of the government—probably Hydra—was trying to weaponize Brown Recluse Spiders by infusing them with Gamma radiation. All they did was infuse their venom. Gamma radiation does some very, very strange things to human DNA. The webshooters are mechanical," he added, because that would otherwise be super weird.

She nodded thoughtfully. "Did you build them? How did you figure out adhesive like that?"

They spent most of lunch period asking and answering questions. Some of them were the same as the ones Ned had. Others were not. MJ was low-key one of the smartest kids in their grade, he wasn't surprised that she was more interested in the logistics of the Iron Spider suit than whether he could control an army of spiders.

He really, really, liked how well she rolled with it. She made him feel _normal_ despite how obviously not normal the whole thing was. The only other person who gave off the same 'you got superpowers, so what?' vibe was Mr. Stark.

The bell rang for fifth period and she grabbed her stuff. "Well, Parker, your life is very weird. But your secret is safe with me. Should probably try not to climb out of any more buses though."

"Thank you," he said. "I owe you. A lot."

He couldn't really read the look she gave him. Then she sighed, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Dork," she muttered, heading out of the room.

Peter stared after her, completely unable to move.

*

True to the fickleness of teenagers, the talk at school swiftly changed from the alien ship in Manhattan to college acceptance letters. In the long run, MJ figured that was probably better for Peter's sanity. The longer people talked about it, the higher the chance that someone else in their school full of supposed geniuses would figure out his secret.

MJ wasn't particularly thrilled with the new topic, for personal reasons. So she decided to throw herself into her English thesis, spending her afternoons in the school library, researching.

"Hey. Mind if I sit here?"

She looked up to find Peter Parker hovering on the other side of her table. She'd discovered this back corner near the old encyclopedias and hardly ever got company. "Go ahead," she said, gesturing at the other chair.

"Thanks," he said. He sat and went about setting up books and notebooks.

It had been several days since they'd talked and she'd given him the biggest hint possible that she liked him. They hadn't really had a chance to talk since then. And he didn't seem interested in doing so now. So she decided to ignore him and get back to her stuff.

"You okay?" he asked after a few minutes.

Or maybe he did want to talk. "I'm okay. Stressed out."

"I noticed. I keep wanting to catch you when you're not in here, but you're always in here."

"It's quiet here," she said, which wasn't really an answer, but all she was willing to say. "Figure out where you're going to college yet?"

"No," he replied. "And I actually got in to everywhere I applied. Mr. Stark thinks I should go to MIT."

"You're too nice to go to MIT. They'll eat you alive."

He grinned. "They'd break most of their teeth."

It was impossible not to smile back. "Careful, you don't want to give it away."

"What about you? Decide where you're going?"

She blew out a breath. "I want to go to Berkley, but I don't think I can."

"Your family?"

She nodded, not really wanting to get into it. "Mom's not cooperating with filling out the financial aid paperwork."

He made a face. "God. I'm sorry." He paused, then asked, "Are you really into that project or do you want to get out of here?"

Closing her book slowly, she asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"Depends. You afraid of heights?"

"Uh, not that I'm aware of."

He pointed up. "The roof is the quietest place in this entire building." 

Well, she was hardly going to pass that up. She packed up her stuff and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Lead the way."

She sort of assumed they might have to crawl up the side of the building or something, but they went by the stairs. The door to the roof was locked and alarmed, and he pulled out some kind of device that bypassed it.

"How many toys do you have?" she asked stepped out onto the roof as he held the door for her.

"It's mostly the suit. It has a crazy amount of features. And I haven't even had a chance to play with it. Ned hacked the last one and found all kinds of stuff."

MJ updated her opinions on Ned's computer skills. "Mr. Stark makes all your suits?"

"Made the first one myself, but I've been told it's sad. Though while wearing it I did take down an airplane and fight a guy with Chitari weapons and a big wing thing." He held his arms out and waved them like wings. "Like Falcon's, only bigger and uglier and steel. Falcon's are carbon fiber. So the original suit can't be that sad."

"I think it's less about the suit and more about the guy in it." She made a point of looking out at the view when she said that, and not him.

"Yeah," he said. "That's how I ended up doing all that in the original suit. Mr. Stark took the one he made for me away after I told him I was nothing without the suit." He grinned at her. "Not true, as it turned out."

She smiled. "You did a good job in DC, too."

"Okay, that I probably couldn't have done without the suit."

"Have you thought about how long you're going to do it? I mean, are you going to do it in college? Join the Avengers?"

"I have to," he said immediately.

She looked over at him. "Why?"

"Because it's easy for me to do. Because I have this power, and need to use it for good. If I see bad things happening, and know I can help but don't, then I feel like that's kinda my fault."

That was a very Peter thing to say. It was also the kind of sentiment that got people killed. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Just don't forget to be Peter Parker while you're busy being Spiderman. I like him a lot better."

He ducked his head. "Thanks." He was quiet a moment, then. "I like you, too, you know. A lot. And for what is probably like an embarrassingly long time."

MJ risked a glance over at him. "Yeah?"

Peter was watching her, and he smiled. "Yeah."

She cleared her throat. "Good. I like you a lot, too." He continued grinning at her and she resisted the urge to sigh. "This is where you kiss me, Peter."

His eyes widened a second, and then he leaned over and did exactly that. It was sweet and cautious and didn't have a lot of skill in it. But it was very Peter. She touched his cheek gently and stepped closer, pleased when he wrapped an arm around her.

When he lifted his mouth, he chuckled. "You sounded so exasperated. . ."

"Having a crush on you has been a frustrating experience," she admitted.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, and clearly meant it.

She rubbed his back a little. "It's okay. You can make it up to me."

"I will do my best," he said, leaning in to kiss her again.

There was nothing like a new relationship to distract MJ from her troubles at home. She did her best to fill out her financial aid paperwork on her own, hoping to catch her mother when she was in a good mood. But that mess took a back burner to spending time with Peter. They didn't do much besides talk and study and make out. But he was getting much better at kissing.

Then one day they were just sitting in math class when a big gold sparkling circle appeared in the front of the room.

A guy in a cloak with unfortunate facial hair poked his head out, scanned the room, then pointed at Peter. "You, come on. Thanos is back."

He looked startled. "Wait, what? I'm in the middle of school. I don't have my suit."

"Well, where is it, we can pick it up."

"Home. It has weapons on it, I can't bring it here."

"Fine, fine, just come along now, we're getting everyone."

Peter nodded, and he stood—the entire class watching in stunned silence. He turned back to look at MJ, and he looked terrified.

They had kept . . . whatever they were pretty private. Neither of them liked to be the source of gossip, and she didn't like PDAs. But this seemed like the kind of time you made an exception. So she stood up and hugged him. "You'll be okay."

"I hope," he whispered, hugging her tightly.

"Parker, we don't have time for this," called Cloak Guy. That was probably Dr. Strange. Who Peter had described as 'kind of an asshole', and considering how fond Peter was of Tony Stark, someone he called an asshole had to be some serious business. 

MJ poked her head around his shoulder and said, "You're dragging a seventeen year old to go fight a megalomaniacal alien, you can wait thirty seconds for him to say goodbye to his girlfriend."

Peter lifted his head, and then he grinned at her. "You're the best," he said emphatically. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her like he was going to war. Which he was.

The class - which had been stunned into silence - began to hoot and cat call. MJ chose to ignore them.

When Peter lifted his head she smiled shyly. "Go save the world. I'll see you when you're done."

"I'll be back soon," he said, and then he turned and followed Dr. Strange.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"My main focus is Library Science, but I'll probably do an Art History major or minor for fun." Mr. Stark made the face most people seemed to make when MJ told people she wanted to study Library Science. "I hope one day to curate a collection of cursed tomes," she added._

The teacher didn't even try to get the class back under control, just dismissed them all. MJ darted out as fast as she could, avoiding getting mobbed by questions. She didn't bother with the rest of her classes, leaving school and hiking to Peter's apartment building. She just wasn't up for going home right now.

His aunt didn't answer when she buzzed, so she plopped down on the stoop and waited. She didn't know how long she sat there, until suddenly May Parker was standing in front of her. "He's up there, isn't he?"

MJ nodded. "The wizard guy showed up at school and took him."

May sat next to her. "It's all over the news. There's some kind of battle going on upstate. At the Avengers compound."

"He didn't say where they were going." She'd been half afraid it was space again. Upstate didn't seem quite so bad. "I didn't want to go home. I thought maybe you wouldn't mind company waiting."

"Yeah." She put an arm around MJ. "I've got some chocolate ice cream in the fridge."

"That sounds appealing," she said.

They went upstairs and May got two bowls of ice cream and brought them to sit in the living room. It was one of those small, quiet moments that had been mostly missing from her childhood. "I'm proud of him," she said. "But God, I wish he didn't do it."

MJ nodded, swirling her spoon through her ice cream. "I know why he wants to. Why he thinks he has to. But I wish one of those adults would stop and think about what they're asking from him."

"After I found out the whole Spiderman thing, I had a conversation with Pepper Stark that was about four hours long. During which I worked my way from apoplectic and ready to kill her husband into understanding of, well, the reality of the situation. Which is that Peter is _clearly_ going to do this whether I want him to or not. Apparently Tony Stark has the same moral-responsibility-driven compulsion that she's never been able to dissuade." She sighed. "If Peter's going to do it, I'd rather him have a bulletproof suit."

"Yeah, he told me about the original suit." She curled her legs up onto the couch. "I knew he was Spiderman before we . . . started anything. So I guess I can't complain too much. I knew what I was signing up for."

"Doesn't make it any easier to watch."

"No," MJ agreed. "Also, I kissed him in front of our math class, so I think I can never go back to school again."

"Were you guys keeping that a secret?"

"We weren't making a thing of it, you know? I don't like people noticing me, Peter didn't want to draw attention to himself. Seemed like it wasn't anyone's business."

"Why did you do it, then?"

She hesitated, not sure if May really wanted to hear it. "He looked scared."

May frowned. "They came and got him in the middle of. . .math class? Maybe we are about to find out if a little Italian woman can strangle Iron Man."

"He wasn't there. It was the wizard guy. Strange? He said Thanos was back and they had to go."

She rubbed her eyes. "I guess now it will be out."

"I'm sure it's on YouTube." Which meant her and Peter kissing was on YouTube. She dug into her ice cream with more gusto.

May reached out and squeezed her hand. "Should I put the news on and see what's happening?"

"Does it help? Watching?"

"Depends if you find waiting anxiously more stressful than watching anxiously. It's kind of a coin flip for me."

MJ sighed. "Well, I haven't tried the anxious watching, maybe it's worth a shot."

As she reached for the remote, May's phone rang. She reached for it, frowned at the number obviously not in her contacts, and answered, "Hello?" MJ could see her entire body slump and relax in visible relief. "Hey. Honey. Are you okay?"

She couldn't make out the words, but she could hear Peter's voice on the other end, going a mile a minute.

"Okay, okay. Peter - Pete - What's going on now? Do you need me to come get you?"

MJ could only imagine how long that was going to take and leaned over to yell at the phone. "Tell that asshole Strange the least he could do is portal you home."

"Hang on," May said. She put her phone on her knee and tapped the screen. "You're on speaker." There was all kinds of background noise--voices and helicopters and metal clanking.

"There's a lot of people from other countries and planets that the wizards are getting home. But somebody will take me. Mr. Barton is looking after me. This is his phone."

"Did you win?" MJ asked. She assumed he had, since he was alive and coming home, but it seemed relevant to ask.

"Yeah. It was the craziest thing I've ever seen. The bad guys turned to dust because Mr. Stark got the magic glove, and then he got burned and Doc had to cut his arm off which was really gross and I wish I hadn't watched."

May looked amused. "Is Mr. Stark okay now?"

"I think so. Doc took him to the hospital." There were muffled voices in the background. "Oh, hey, the lady with the flying horse is going to give me a ride home."

MJ and May exchanged a look. She shrugged and May shook her head. "Okay. Be safe. We'll see you soon."

After they hung up the phone, May commented, "We should probably get used to weird shit like that."

"I guess so. I really thought magic portals was where it was going to top out."

It was, literally, a winged horse. A white pegasus like the stuffed one from the Hercules movie she'd had at as little kid. The lady Peter mention was, by the armor and the cape, clearly Asgardian—though MJ hadn't known Asgardians came in colors other than a few shades of albino.

Peter hopped off and immediately flung himself at May for a hug. MJ decided to give them a moment and looked up at the Asgardian. "Thanks for bringing him."

"He fought well," she replied with a smile. Which MJ thought was a big deal to those guys.

Then Peter tugged on her shoulder to turn her, and wrapped his arms around her. She tucked her arms around his waist and held onto him, leaning into his heat. "Hey," she said softly, embarrassed that tears seemed to be prickling her eyes.

He pressed his face into her shoulder, and she could hear his voice shake when he mumbled, "It's okay." Right then she understood that the excited rambling had been his version of bravado. For the Avengers, for Aunt May, but not for her.

"I told you it would be," she said. Because smug snark was her version of bravado. "You want ice cream? Your aunt had good ice cream."

"That sounds amazing, I am _starving_."

They went back to the apartment and ate ice cream while May ordered half an Italian restaurant worth of food. Peter showered and by the time he came out the food had arrived and they feasted. Afterwards, May didn't even make a face when they retreated to Peter's bedroom. They did leave the door cracked out of respect, but ended up laying next to each other on the bed, talking quietly.

He told her about the battle and Mr. Stark hugging him and the crazy race to get the glove away from Thanos. He told the story with none of the energy and speed he had before and she could tell it had probably been terrifying.

"It's all over now, though, right?" she said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was drying from the shower and was kind of adorably puffy. "Bad guy ash, good guys all alive?"

"Yeah. Everybody, actually. There wasn't a single casualty on our side. Except for Mr. Stark's arm."

"Space magic?"

"Crazy, huh?" He sighed a little. "I was really happy you were here. And I can't believe you yelled at Dr. Strange."

"You're way too nice, Parker. Someone needs to yell at bullies for you."

"You volunteering for that job?"

She sighed extravagantly. "I _suppose_."

He laughed, and he leaned over to kiss her. "Hey, I know it's kinda early, but would you got to prom with me?"

From the fate of the world to prom. She supposed that was going to be life with Peter. "I'd love to."

May knocked on the door, and Peter moved so fast he fell right out of the bed. "Uh, hi Aunt May."

She looked profoundly amused, and shook her head at him, then looked up at MJ. "You staying the night?"

"If that's okay. My mom won't mind." If she even noticed she was gone.

"Wait, that's okay with you?" Peter asked.

"Pete," she said, sounding exasperated. "What do you think I thought you were doing when you snuck out every night?"

"I know, but. . . I mean not that I'm going to. . .we're not. . ." he fumbled over his words.

May laughed. "Yeah, I know, honey. I know you." She looked at MJ. "Other bunk."

MJ gave a little salute. "Got it, Mrs. Parker."

"Goodnight," she replied, and shut the door.

MJ rolled over to look at Peter on the floor. "Do you have a shirt or something I can sleep in?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course." He stood up to dig her out a t-shirt. The one he handed her was very soft, and smelled like him.

"Thanks." She ducked out to the bathroom and changed. May had left a brand new toothbrush on the sink and she used it to brush her teeth. There wasn't much she could do about her hair, not having any of the products she usually put in overnight, but she had a scarf in her bag she could wrap it in. When she got back to Peter's room he'd changed into pajamas and looked very nervous. She paused in the doorway. "Are _you_ okay with me staying?"

"I am. Absolutely. I just don't know if you have. . . expectations and I just really feel like I've been turned inside out today."

She smiled. "I would not say no to the level of kissing we have become accustomed to, if you're up for it. I was. . . scared for you, today, and physical contact helps with that. But afterwards I fully intend to climb up on my bunk and leave both of our virtues intact."

"I like kissing you. And I realize this is the exact opposite of what guys are supposed to do in this situation, but. . ." he shrugged.

"If I wanted what other boys did, I'd be dating them." Though, she supposed, they hadn't really been on a date yet. She stepped closer and ran a hand down his arm to hold his hand. "If we get there - it's going to be because we're both ready and want to. Not because you're _supposed_ to go get some tail after a big battle."

He lifted her hand and kissed the back. "Sounds like a good deal."

She tugged his hand out of his grip, sliding her fingers into his hair. He stepped closer and put and arm around her, holding her tight as he tipped his head to kiss her. MJ sighed softly and cuddled into him, feeling very safe and reassured.

*

Hospitals had always made Peter nervous. He wasn't sure why. He knew he'd had a bad fever when he was a toddler and ended up in the hospital a couple days until the doctors could bring it down. Maybe that had left some sort of indelible scar on him.

Or maybe it was just because hospitals, more often that not, were places where people went to die.

"You are a superhero," MJ scolded gently, holding his hand as they rode up the elevator. "You can handle a simple hospital visit."

"Happy gave me this long lecture on like bracing myself and not staring and all. I asked him if we were talking a Phantom of the Opera situation, and I just got blank stare." Peter moved his hand in front of his face.

"From what you've told me about Mr. Stark you could probably make a Phantom joke and he'd laugh and make a robot mask or something."

He laughed. "Yeah, probably."

The elevator pinged open and they stepped out, walking down the hall to the room number Mrs. Stark had given him. There were two security guys in the hallway. "I'm here to see Mr. Stark."

They looked him up and down. "And who are you?"

"Uh. Spiderman." He didn't know why he said that instead of his actual name, but they both immediately smiled and stepped back. Of course, maybe his name would have worked. The whole world seemed to know who he was now. He turned towards MJ and whispered, "I can't believe that worked."

She laughed, and gave him a kiss at the doorway. "I'll wait here. You should make sure he's up for new people."

"Right." Peter knocked loudly.

Mr. Stark yelled, "Come in," from the other side. Peter gave MJ one more glance before stepping into the room.

Mr. Stark was in the bed, sitting up, surrounded by electronics. He was in a normal shirt, unbuttoned over what looked like a lot of bandages on the right side of his chest. There were more burns on his neck and ear, but they weren't gross or anything. He'd seen way worse in horror movies.

He looked up and smiled widely. "Parker. I was wondering when you'd come around."

"They won't let anyone under 18 in the burn unit."

"Haven't I gotten you a fake ID yet?"

Peter choked on a laugh. "No, but thanks. Though I don't think anyone would buy I'm 21."

"Probably not," he conceded. He waved at the chair next to the bed. "Come sit. Talk. How are you? How's school?"

"I'm good. Weird, but mostly good. I was in class when Dr. Strange opened the portal and was like 'Come on, Thanos is back'. So. . . everybody knows."

"Secret identities aren't worth the stress, I've told you that."

"Mrs. Stark told me I had to keep it a secret or I'd have to sign the Sokovia Accords."

He sighed and made a face. "Point. You're almost 18 now?" Peter nodded. "We should get you on that, then. If you're going to keep being Spiderman."

"I am. I hope so. The new suit is _so_ awesome."

Mr. Stark smiled. "It is, isn't it?"

"Sorry I stowed away and you had to take me to space."

"I won't say it's all right. But I understand why you did it. And you held your own up there."

He nodded, wishing he'd brought something to fiddle with. His hands felt empty. "So do I have to like drop out of school and do this full time now?"

"No," Mr Stark said firmly. "Go to school. Go to college, wherever you want, I'll pay. You live your life. And do this as much or as little as you want."

"It's just that everybody is retiring, aren't they? Doesn't somebody have to, you know, Avenge?"

"Not everyone is going. Sam is still working. Doc's going with him. So is Barnes and Wanda and Visions. Scott and Hope are on board. It's a different team, but it's still a team."

"Okay." He glanced towards the hallway where MJ was, then turned back. "I already filled out the financial aid forms. You said you'd pay if I went to MIT and I. . . I don't want to."

He blinked and cocked his head. "Where do you want to go?"

"Stanford. I mean, I got in everywhere I applied. But that's where I want to go."

To his surprise, Mr. Stark broke into a wide grin. "Sometimes, Parker, I almost believe in fate. Pepper and I were just talking about moving out to California. Set up a Stark Biomedical division. Get a quaint mansion on the Peninsula."

"That sounds awesome." And it did. "My girlfriend is going to UC Berkeley. We didn't do it on purpose, exactly, but it worked out like that."

Mr. Stark's brows went up. "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah. MJ. We go to school together. She's actually in the hall." He gestured.

"Well, bring her in. Surely I have to size her up or something."

"Hey, come in!" he called.

She poked her head around the corner, then stepped inside, standing next to him. She waved a little. "Hi. I'm MJ."

Mr. Stark studied her. "So is this like a casual thing or a serious thing or what?"

"It's deathly serious, sir," MJ said, dryly serious. "I've never loved anyone the way I love Peter. I've already gotten his name tattooed on my back and picked out names for our three children."

Peter turned to stare at her.

Mr. Stark snorted. "If you want that many, you should probably get on it. You wouldn't believe how hard it is once you're older."

She looked back at Peter. "You heard him, Parker, meet me in the linen closet."

"I like this girl," Mr. Stark said. "Cal, huh? What's your thing, what are studying?"

MJ turned back to him, turning off the obsessed girlfriend vibe. "My main focus is Library Science, but I'll probably do an Art History major or minor for fun." Mr. Stark made the face most people seemed to make when MJ told people she wanted to study Library Science. "I hope one day to curate a collection of cursed tomes," she added.

"Huh. You got a summer job?"

She shook her head. "I have some applications out to a couple dollar stores and bodegas near my place."

"My house in the Village has a giant library and I don't know what's in it. Some of them might be cursed, I don't know. I need someone to go through it. Super boring, but it's air conditioned and you don't have to handle. . . whatever sort of product they sell in a dollar store. I've never been in one."

Peter felt like he should _say_ something right now, but no words would come out of his mouth.

MJ crossed her arms. "What kind of salary are we talking? Curatorial assistant at Berkley makes about $20 an hour."

"That seems low, but you offered. Pepper and Morgan and I are going to California, you can stay in the house if you want. There's no way you could find a descent place making 800 bucks a week."

"Can I throw wild parties?"

"Of course."

She nodded. "Deal. I can start on the ninth."

"I can't believe that just happened," Peter said faintly.

"I like her," Mr. Stark said. "You should have brought her around before."

"It took us some time to figure it out," he replied. "I'm not normal."

He felt MJ curl her hand around his. "In all the best ways," she assured him. He might be a superhero, but she was the best person he knew.

Mr. Stark looked at their hands, then at the two of them. Finally he said, "Make it $30 an hour."

Out in the hallway, Peter looked at her and said, "Holy shit."

She was beaming. "Right? I got a job!"

He hugged her and lifted her up. "Holy shit."

Laughing, she held onto his neck as he spun her around. "That's almost fifteen thousand dollars. That'll cover my books and meal plan."

"You could have asked for more, he has no concept of regular people money. I once asked him for a few bucks for a hotdog and he gave me a hundred dollar bill."

She shrugged. "Thirty dollars and hour plus housing is more than enough for what he's asking. Plus do you know how awesome that's going to look on my resume?"

They walked to the elevators. "I think we should go celebrate."

"Where did you have in mind?" she asked, tucking her hands into her pockets.

"We could go to that pizza place where they never let me pay for any food."

"Free pizza is the best pizza," she agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"This tuxedo thing is really, really comfortable. I guess there's something to be said for custom. Though the conversation while getting fitted was a trip. It's clear to me that everything Mr. Stark knows about high school he got from a John Hughes movie."_

MJ had never really thought about going to prom. She certainly didn't expect her mother to go dress shopping with her. Nor did she have any female friends to come give opinions. Which meant the closer they got to prom night, the more concerned she was she'd be going in jeans.

She had a lot of meals over at Peter's house, because May cooked and her mother didn't, and it was at one of those meals May asked, "Did you get your dress yet, MJ?"

With great self control, she swallowed her bite of food. "Um. Not yet."

"Can't find one you like?"

"Something like that. I'm not a very good shopper."

May grinned. "I'd be happy to take you. I love shopping."

"That would be great," she said, hoping she didn't sound as overwhelmingly relieved as she felt.

"Saturday?"

She nodded. "Can you pick me up?"

"Absolutely."

The car that showed up to get her on Saturday morning was not the rusty beater Aunt May drove. It was an extremely fancy car, that seemed to be driven by a chauffeur, who got out and said, "Michelle Jones?"

"Um. Yes?" This had to be some sort of mistake.

He inclined his head and smiled at her. "Happy Hogan," he said. "Peter talks about you all the time." He came around and opened the back door.

May Parker stuck her head out. "For the record, I told him to just honk."

She shook her head, stepping close to climb in. "Peter speaks highly of you, too," she assured Happy as she climbed in.

He closed the door and MJ realized there was a third person in the car. Just when she thought her day was as weird as it was going to get, there was Pepper Stark taking her dress shopping.

"Hi," MJ said uncertainly.

"I like your hair!" said a little voice, and MJ noticed the fourth occupant, a small dark-haired girl that had to be Morgan Stark.

"Thank you," she replied, because what else could she say?

"Hi," Pepper said. "I don't know if you know or not, but right now Peter is somewhere in lower Manhattan being fitted for a bespoke tuxedo with Tony's Suit Guy, a very intense little Italian tailor who's only in town twice a year. I was ordered to get you a dress."

She wondered if Peter had gotten any sort of say in that. "Great, that's not intimidating at all."

"I apologize. You'll get used to him."

That was probably true, if weird. Nothing to do by roll with it, though. "So, where are we going for my slightly more feminist Pretty Woman moment?"

"Anywhere you'd like, and I mean that. I promised Tony I'd buy you a dress, not that I'd drag you to a couture atelier for you to be put on a pedestal to be yelled at in a foreign language." She paused. "Unless that's your thing."

"Probably not." She glanced at May, who gave her a shrug and an encouraging nod. MJ wasn't one to accept help or charity most of the time. She'd found it tended to go hand in hand with pity, most of the time. But Peter seemed the have no problem benefitting from the Stark's largess. And this was the only prom she'd ever go to, with a guy she really liked.

So she took a breath and said, "There was a dress in a magazine I saw last month that I really liked. If we could find one like that. . . I don't know where on the scale it is but it was pretty."

"If you tell FRIDAY what magazine, and describe the dress," Pepper said, "We can probably find it. Or at least what stores to aim at."

She tipped her head back, trying to picture the news stand she'd seen it on, but couldn't. "Uh, it was blues and greens. Long and sleeveless. With 3D flower embellishments on the skirt. The designer was two words. One of them started with an M. March? Marches?"

"Marchesa," Pepper said. She leaned back and hit a button that dropped the divider with the front. "Happy, we'll start at Saks."

It turned out to be one of the best days of MJ's life. The kind of day she'd written off having when her mother's mental illness had started to manifest years ago. MJ had spent most of her life knowing she'd never have any of the normal mother-daughter moments they had in movies and TV shows. Her dad has done what he could. Took her to buy her first bra. Quietly slipped a box of tampons into the bathroom when she was twelve. She loved him for those moment and a lot more, but it wasn't the same. Not when you were surrounded by media telling you a girl needed her mom.

So it was fun and sweet and a little surreal to have two surrogate moms - and a five year old - watching her try on various dresses, dithering over shoes and insisting she get an appointment for hair and make up.  
They ended the afternoon at a tea house, in a private room, sipping tea and munching scones and tiny cakes.

"Thank you," she said. "For all of this. Not just the dress."

"Hey," Pepper said. "The dress was cheap."

"Welcome to a universe where someone describes a $900 dress as cheap," May said.

"You want me to tell you what the dress I wore to the Met Gala cost?"

"No, I absolutely do not."

"I'm glad you had a good time," Pepper said. "I never know what to expect when Tony springs things on people."

"You could have bought me a dress at a thrift store," MJ said, snagging a petit four. "It was the experience I enjoyed."

"MJ's mother is. . . sick," May said by way of explanation.

She appreciated the help. She never really knew what to say to new people. "I don't get a lot of normal."

"My Mom died when I was teenager," Pepper said. "My father had a serious drinking problem. I didn't have a lot of normal at your age."

"I would ask you to adopt me but it would probably make things weird for Peter."

"Tony adopts all sorts of people. I'm used to it." She leaned over to wipe icing off Morgan's face. The little girl had deconstructed a petit four and was eating it by each separate section. "I heard you'll be organizing our book collection this summer. And then school?"

"Hopefully," she said. "I was accepted at Cal Berkley, it has the best collegiate library on the west coast. But I'm having some trouble getting financial aid."

Pepper stopped in the middle of putting pieces of fondant back on Morgan's plate from where she'd littered them on the table. "Oh. Yeah, no problem. Done."

Intellectually, MJ knew what she meant. But it was so far outside the realm of her experience she found herself saying, "I'm sorry, what's done?"

"Your tuition," she said. "It's okay," she added. "Tony pays for so many random people's college tuition we have an actual scholarship fund as part of the Foundation."

All the air in her lungs left in once great whoosh. She was almost certainly about to cry and May helpfully reached over and hugged her so she could hide her face a moment. "Thank you," she managed to get out when she trusted her voice to be steady.

"Welcome to the circus," Pepper said.

Prom turned out to be another one of those amazingly normal experiences MJ had expected to miss out on. For certain definitions of normal, anyway.

Stark lent Peter his Bentley and Happy for the night. Peter was speechless when he saw her and looked. . . really good in his bespoke tux. They picked up Ned and his date Cindy on the way to the dance and the four of them took selfies and toasted with sparkling cider.

"This is the swankiest thing I've ever been in," Ned said. "Way better than that limo from my uncle's funeral."

"Mr. Stark originally offered to let me borrow one of his sports cars, but Mrs. Stark and Aunt May said no."

"Aww, man, I bet they're awesome."

Peter put his hand on MJ's knee. "This is pretty awesome, too."

She grinned at him. "It is." She admired the corsage he'd brought her. "It's just perfect."

Once they got there, and got to their table, he pulled her onto the floor for the first slow dance. He was far more graceful than you'd expect of your average teenage guy—but then he was a guy who could do what looked like Olympic level gymnastics.

"You're better at this than me," she teased, looking down at her feet.

"Gamma radiation, man," he replied with a grin. "Who knew?"

She laughed and held onto him a little tighter as he spun her around.

The food was mediocre and she ended up giving half of hers to Peter because he was always hungry. They didn't get voted king and queen, for which she was eternally grateful, and neither did Flash and his date, which delighted Peter.

"Have I told you how unspeakably gorgeous you are tonight?"

They were lounging in chairs at their table towards the end of the night. A bunch of classmates were trying to do the chicken dance while pretending they weren't drunk. "You did not, though I was able to extrapolate from given evidence."

He laughed. "Was there open mouthed drooling?"

"It was a big clue," she conceded.

"This tuxedo thing is really, really comfortable. I guess there's something to be said for custom. Though the conversation while getting fitted was a trip. It's clear to me that everything Mr. Stark knows about high school he got from a John Hughes movie."

She ruffled his hair. "Did you get awkward relationship advice from a billionaire?"

"Mostly I learned a lot about how fucked up his own teen years were." They'd all been given little boxes of Hersey's Kisses as favors, and Peter picked up one and pulled off the wrapper. "I think, I guess 'cause times were different back then, most adults were irresponsible about sex when they were our age. I don't know what it's like for girls, but everybody wants to talk to me about condoms, like I don't know where the Duane Reade is." He unwrapped another kiss and handed it to her. "Explaining their problematic failure rates to a billionaire and a 70-year-old tailor was was the highlight of my day."

She popped the candy in her mouth and sucked on it a moment before chewing. "On that topic. I turn eighteen a couple days after graduation. I think once I do I'm going to head to Planned Parenthood and get an IUD."

He raised an eyebrow. "Those are pretty foolproof, aren't they?"

"That's the idea. No user error and once my body adjusts I have a good shot at little to no periods." One thing she and Peter were good at, was communication. And he was surprisingly chill about the kind of "girly things" she thought might freak out a different guy.

"Seems like the kind of thing that should be standard issue, then, doesn't?"

"Maybe someday when women rule the world." She grinned at him and popped another kiss in her mouth.

A slow song came on, and he reached for her hand. "One more dance." She took his hand and let him pull her out of her chair and back onto the floor.

"I've had a really nice night," he told her, as she put her head on his shoulder.

"Me too," she said, letting him sway her gently to the music. "I wish it didn't have to end."

"I feel like your shoes are going to start hurting eventually."

She huffed air at him. "I manage to dredge up a romantic sentiment and you gotta ruin it."

Peter turned his head, pressing his cheek against hers. "I love you. How's that?"

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she sucked in a breath. Closing her eyes, she held him tighter. "I love you back," she whispered.

She could feel him sigh. "Good."

The last two weeks of school passed in a blur. The senior class had more or less checked out. Everyone had their acceptance letters and summer plans set and it wad just a waiting game. MJ got a little tired of hearing about Flash's "Europe Summer Tour" but resisted the urge to booby trap his locker.

She and Peter hung out as much as possible, sometimes with other friends, sometimes alone. Alone usually led to making out, but privacy issues - and the wait on her PP appointment - kept them from rounding too many bases.

It was a lot of stolen moments, so they didn't dare take much clothing off—no matter how much they both wanted to. But she let his hands wander anywhere, and her first orgasm provided by another person was kind of an accident, and a surprise to both of them. 

She had never considered herself much for physical affection. Her mother wasn't touchy-feely even on her good days, and her visits with her dad had been through video or three inch plastic for so long she'd mostly forgotten what his hugs were like. Prior to Peter, she'd gone days or weeks without a friendly touch. Now, she became damn near touch starved if they went more than a day or two without some hugging and hand holding.  
She was _really_ looking forward to finding some privacy this summer.

*

Peter was immensely touched the entire Stark family came to his graduation. Even if that meant that there was then security and paparazzi. Though Mr. Stark insisted the press would have shown up anyway, since everybody knew he was Spiderman. 

It made Flash shut up about his stupid trip to Europe, too.

"About that," Mr. Stark said at dinner afterwards. "Coincidentally. You need to go to Vienna."

"Why?"

"If you want to work with the team out in California you need to sign the Accords," he replied. "And they keep them in Vienna."

"Can't I do that in the fall?"

"We've already put them off. The committee wanted you to sign when you turned eighteen and the lawyers managed to convince them it wasn't an issue while you were in school."

"Is there a reason you don't want to go, Peter?" Mrs. Stark asked.

He glanced over at MJ before thinking the better of it. He _had_ answers, but none of them were appropriate for a table in a fancy restaurant filled with adults and a four year old. "No, no, of course. It's fine. Vienna's fine. How long will we be gone?"

The Starks exchanged an amused look. "Signing will only take a day," Mr. Stark said. "But I figured you and your girl would want at least a week or two to go somewhere more fun than Vienna."

"Go somewhere?" He really should stop being surprised by this stuff.

"Your graduation gift. Trip for you and MJ. Anywhere you like. All expenses paid."

Peter stared at him, then gave May a wide eyed look. She smiled in a way that indicated she'd known this was coming.

"Can it wait until after Thursday?" MJ piped up. "If it's after my birthday I don't have to worry about Peter being arrested for kidnapping."

"We'll work it out," Mrs. Stark said. "Figure out where you guys want to go by Friday."

"We'll talk about it," MJ promised. Then added, "Breathe, Peter."

"Me? What? I'm fine."

May gave him a pat on the back. "Sure you are, Pete."

"Oh, look," he said. "There's our food."

Dinner was delicious. Mr. Stark dominated the conversation, as usual, but this time Peter thought it was at least partially to take attention away from him.

There was cake for dessert, then they all went out to the parking lot. He had a moment alone - sort of - with MJ while the adults said their goodbyes and argued good naturally over who was giving who a ride home.

"Any thoughts on where you want to go?" she asked him.

"I don't know. Italy? It could be anywhere, I guess. Someplace with good art."

"How about Florence?" she said. It was only because he knew her so well that he recognized the casual tone was totally fake.

"That sounds like a great idea."

She smiled and kissed his cheek, hugging him. "Thanks," she whispered in his ear.

They were hiking up the stairs of their building when May looked over and asked him, "You know, if you needed me to clear out so you can have some privacy, you could have said so."

Peter stared at her. "What? No. I'm not going to ask you to do that."

"You're eighteen, Peter. And the most responsible eighteen year old I've ever met. We can have a grown up conversation about privacy and locked doors."

He could feel his face turning red. "It's not-" He sighed, waving with his hand to indicate he wanted to get actually inside their apartment. When they did, he said, "She wants a IUD, and was waiting for her birthday because you know how her mother is with signing things. Her appointment was Friday."

May opened her mouth, then pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, I could talk to Stark about bumping it back. But, to be honest, it'll probably be better to wait until you get back. IUDs can cause a lot of symptoms right after they're in. And I think you have to wait six weeks after insertion before you can have sex. So either way, you wouldn't be doing anything till July."

"I. . . did not know that." It was useful information, embarrassed as he was to be discussing this with her.

"Do you want me to talk to MJ? I'm sure she's done her research, but it helps to have someone who's been there sometimes."

"Maybe? I don't know if she'd be less uncomfortable than I am now. Probably, you're both girls." He paused. "I already got a whole thing about condoms from Mr. Stark. Apparently rich boarding schools really are like a CW show. Or they were in the 80's, anyway."

May snorted. "Can't say I'd know. My mother was a progressive lady who had eight kids and happily got me on birth control when I started dating." She made a face again, then took a breath. "Are you doing anything that requires condoms?" He shook his head frantically and saw her shoulders relax a little. "Okay. Well, talk to MJ. If she wants me to go with her before her birthday and try to get something as a stop gap before the IUD, I'm happy to. But my personal advice is to stick with the . . . other ways of having fun and saving the, um, home run for after you're home and she's recovered."

Peter cleared his throat. He knew she didn't expect to be having this kind of conversation. If his uncle were still alive, this would have been his territory. But somehow, the two of them bumbled along. "Thanks," he said quietly.

She rubbed his back briskly. "Anytime, kiddo. Now go get some sleep. Busy day. And you have some packing to do."

"Apparently I do."

MJ decided she didn't want to deal with any kind of new birth control while on vacation in a foreign country. So she rescheduled her appointment and accepted May's offer to go with her when the time came.  
She showed up at the airport on Friday with a suit case and backpack, eyes red rimmed and puffy. He gave her a few concerned looks but she waved him off until they were on the plane and in the air. The Starks had moved to a different part of the jet to entertain Morgan and they had a little privacy.

"Mom's starting a depressive cycle. She saw me packing yesterday and just. . . exploded. Said I was abandoning her and didn't love her. Bunch of other mean stuff that didn't make any sense. She threatened to kill herself, then she _tried_ to kill herself, so I called 911. They took her to be put on a psych hold."

"Jesus," Peter breathed, his heart lurching. "You could have called me, I'd have come over."

"It was late." She paused. "I actually called Mrs. Stark. She gave me her number in case my mom wanted to talk to her. Happy helped me get the last of my stuff packed and I spent the rest of the night at the Greenwich Village house I'll be working at. So I don't have to go back home when this trip is done."

He rubbed her arm. "She's probably of more use than I am in that kind of situation."

"She told me some stuff about her parents. . . I figured she'd had her own middle of the night calls." MJ shifted and put her head on his shoulder. "She told me to enjoy this trip and not worry about it, she'd handle everything. So I'm going to try to trust that."

"That's kind of how they roll," he told her. "You get used to it."

"It's nice," she said. "Having someone else deal with things."

He leaned over to kiss her temple. "So we can enjoy our fancy European vacation?" He laughed. "I bet Flash is staying in hostels."

"I bet he is." She lifted her head and dug in her bag. "Did you see the brochure for the place we're staying in Florence?"

He reached for what she pulled out. "Is it a a castle?" 

"No, but it is part of the older part of the city." They killed a good couple of hours looking through the brochure and then looking the place up on the internet and doing virtual walks on Google maps.

"We can walk to all the main museums, the botanical gardens and even Dante's house." She was adorably excited about that last one.

He could probably take or leave touring the homes of random historical figures, but it made him happy to see her happy. "We can go anywhere you want."

"Thank you." She folded the brochure back up and tucked it away. "Is there anything you want to do?"

His brain immediately went somewhere dirty, and felt his face heat. "Uh. . . There's-I'm sure there's art and stuff."

As always, she read him like a book and her smile turned sly and unfairly sexy. "We can definitely do that, too."

He cleared his throat. "Sorry. It's just very. . .distracting."

"No. I know. I've been thinking about it, too. Believe me."

"I'd like to find some really good gelato," he said. "And maybe take some pictures."

"I think we can definitely make some time for that."

They landed in Vienna at midnight and drove straight to the hotel. They were sharing a large suite with the Starks. Dinner was brought up to the room and Mr. Stark went over what he'd be expected to do and sign in the morning. It all sounded straight forward, and Peter had long known he'd have to sign the Accords to keep being Spiderman, so he was just eager to get it done with.

He shared a bed with MJ, but they didn't do much more than kiss and talk about Florence. It felt weird to try to get naked with the Starks and Morgan on the other side of the wall. Besides, he was going to have to get up really early to go in and do his signing. Still, it was really, really nice to fall asleep next to her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Peter sat down on the end of the bed. 'Sat' was probably an exaggeration, as it was more like he fell gracefully, and the bed happened to be there. "Wow."_

Peter had to get up and present himself at the council meeting at an ungodly hour. MJ kissed him goodbye and mumbled well-wishes before going back to sleep.

Mrs. Stark woke her at a much more reasonable hour with room service breakfast. The Accords stuff was scheduled to take most of the day, so the three of them did a little shopping - Mrs. Stark insisted MJ's suitcase wasn't full enough - and spent the afternoon in the spa. By the time they were meeting Peter and Mr. Stark at the jet that would take them to Florence, MJ felt like the US and her mother were a million miles away.

"I tried this with Peter and got nowhere," Mrs. Stark said as they waited. "But you are officially, legally an adult. In the name of all that is holy, will you please call me Pepper?"

"You've bought me sexy pajamas," MJ said. "I think we're at first names."

"Good," she said with a grin. "Please enjoy the hell out of yourselves on our dime. Oh, there they are." She gestured at the approaching car.

MJ waved when it got closer. Peter bounded out of the back seat once it park and she laughed when he reached her and lifted her off her feet with a hug. "Officially an Avenger now?" she asked.

"I am." He grinned and kissed her. "And now we're on vacation."

"Give it to me," Pepper said in the direction of her husband, holding out her hand.

"Give you what?" he replied.

"The suit. I know you have it." She made the "gimme" gesture with her hands. 

MJ and Peter watched this in fascination, and after a moment, Mr. Stark sighed and pulled the compact case that held the nannites of Peter's Iron Spider suit out of one of his pockets, and gave it to his wife. "The UN wanted to see it. And I mean, if there's an emergency-"

"No. It's coming back to New York with us." She tucked it into her own pocket, then leaned over and kissed the top of MJ's head. "I've been you." 

"Thank you, Pepper," she said, ignoring Peter's adorably scandalized look. "I'll bring you something nice from Florence."

"I have every faith in your taste."

"Mommy!" Morgan piped up. "Mommy I have to go potty."

"Right," she said. "Everybody on the plane."

They loaded up. Pepper took Morgan back to the bathroom and the rest of them settled in their seats for take off.

The hop to Florence was a little over an hour. MJ and Peter had time to eat a light dinner, then they were landing and saying goodbye to the Starks. Pepper gave her a tight hug and slipped her some cash. MJ turned in time to see Stark doing the same with Peter and had to stifle a laugh.

There was a car waiting for them on the tarmac, already loaded with their bags. They waved out the window at the Starks as they drove away.

"Is it just me, or on a surrealness scale of 1-10 are we at about fifteen?" he asked.

"Oh at least. I went lingerie shopping with Pepper Stark today, reality is well behind me."

His eyebrows went up, and she could almost see his brain rebooting. "Really?"

"Yep," she said and didn't elaborate. Teasing him was half the fun.

"Are. . . are you wearing any of it?"

Trying hard not to grin, she repeated, "Yep."

He inhaled through his nose. "Okay. I'm going to just sit in the corner here and do some math."

"You do that." She watched the city grow denser, then older.

The car dropped them off at the entrance of their hotel. There was no checkin, instead they were ushered into a little reception area where a well dressed man welcomed them and showed them to their room.

It was as gorgeous as the pictures in the brochures had promised, with a sitting room, huge king bed, and a view of the Arno River. 

They went onto the balcony, and Peter slid his hand into hers. "This is gorgeous."

"It really is." She wove her fingers into his, leaning into his side. "Thank you."

He looked over at her. "What are you thanking me for?"

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

He chuckled. "I don't know. Mrs. Stark seems super fond of you."

"That's true. Is that weird?"

"No, not at all. I think we need all the family we can get." He looked down at her, eyes searching her face, and then bent his head to kiss her.

Sighing, she kissed him back, winding her arms around his neck. His arms came around her waist and something settled inside her. They just kissed for a while, something they could probably do forever. Then he murmured, "Wanna go back inside?"

"I really, really do." He chuckled a little and took her hand again, tugging her back into the room. Once there, the kissing started again, now with a new level of intensity.

She could feel his hands under the back of her shirt. "Do we have rules?" he asked.

"I'm not on anything, so no penetration." She loved that they could have frank conversations about this. "Otherwise, I think I'm up for exploration." She'd been thinking of little else the last couple weeks.

"Fair warning, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Like she did. "Do you know what you like?"

He laughed a little. "I'm not worried about me, honey. That's. . . not going to take much."

Shaking her head, she said, "I just mean, if you tell me what you like, I'll tell you what I like. And we'll figure it out."

"Well," he said, taking an adorably nervous breath. "What I'd like is to see your fancy lingerie."

"That I can do." She stepped back and tugged her shirt up and off, then wiggled out of her jeans. The bra and panties set she'd picked out was actually pretty middle of the road, sexy wise, for the store they'd been in. But there were a million times sexier than the things she usually wore, cotton numbers from the Target sale rack. And way, way more comfortable.

Peter sat down on the end of the bed. 'Sat' was probably an exaggeration, as it was more like he fell gracefully, and the bed happened to be there. "Wow."

She did a little turn, because how often did a guy look at you like that. Then she stepped forward to stand between his knees. "I had a massage and scrub at the spa," she told him. "My skin is really soft."

He swallowed. "Your skin is always soft." But he reached out, putting his hands on the outside of her thighs and slid them upwards.

His hands were always rough. Callused. Very different from her own. It was nice, and vaguely exciting, when he was touching places that didn't normally get touched my anyone but herself. Like right now.

He stood up again, moving his hands higher, over her hips, her waist, her ribs, which was about when he bent his head and kissed her again.

It was different this time. He was different this time. Despite his obvious nerves, there was confidence there. Like he'd finally realized they had privacy and space and all the time in the world.

She gave his shirt a tug and he obediently leaned back and yanked it off before diving in to kiss her again. The desperation was growing and she slid her hands up his back, letting her nails rake lightly on his skin and she pressed into him. 

"Hang on, hang on," he said, letting her go with reluctance. He went to the balcony and yanked the drapes closed. "I don't know if we're visible, but-" He turned, and stopped moving, staring at her again. "God, you are so out of my league."

MJ made a little incredulous noise. "Peter. You're a superhero. And have you _seen_ yourself with no shirt on?"

"In my head I'm still a dork who got picked on." He came towards her. "I just think you're gorgeous, and I'm glad you're mine." 

"I liked the dork who got picked on. And I like the hot superhero." She slipped her arms around him. "And I'm glad you're mine."

When he kissed her again, he had his hands on her ass as he backed her up to the bed. When her legs hit the end of it, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and put a knee up on the mattress. Then he toppled them both onto the bed without breaking the kiss.

It was, but far, the most comfortable bed she'd ever laid on. Made all the better by the half naked guy pinning her to it. She could feel a familiar, hard bulge in the front of his slacks as he rocked his hips into hers, sending a shudder through her. She could hear his sharp inhale, and then he pushed up on his arm, looking down at her and tracing his fingers over the edge of her bra cup. "Can I take this off?"

"You may," she teased. "Can is still under debate."

He winced. He'd broken the clasp on one of her bras not long ago. "Maybe you should take it off?"

Aware this was probably going to drive him nuts all on his own, she dug her elbows into the bed and arched her back up. Twisting her hands underneath, she unhooked her bra. He stared, and he was close enough she could see his pupils blow out. But he did reach up to help her peel the bra down. 

He set it aside almost reverently, before returning to her. One hand came up to cup her breast, thumb brushing her nipple. It tightened and swelled and she sucked in a breath, feeling a rush of heat in her belly.

It was nothing they hadn't done before, except now she was in lingerie and they were in a hotel bed. It made it feel more intimate than groping while kissing on his couch. She watched him bend his head down to kiss her skin.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, sighing softly. He was very gentle and sweet with her, taking it achingly slowly. His kisses trailed down the curve of her breast and her breathing grew faster. When she felt the rasp on his tongue on her nipple she couldn't stop the little gasp that came out of her. He chuckled, clearly proud of himself, and did it again.

MJ closed her eyes so she could focus on the sensations he was causing and the way her body reacted. It was hard for her, sometimes, to relax and enjoy the moment. Usually when she was with Peter part of her brain was worried about being walked in on or what mood her mother would be in when she got home. Right now, she didn't have to think about any of that. Only him and how he made her feel.

His free hand was sliding down her stomach, and stopped when he reached lace. "This okay?"

She opened her eyes to find him watching her intently. Nodding, she whispered, "You want me to show you?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

Ignoring the flutter of nerves in her stomach, she hooked her thumbs into the flimsy lace panties and dragged them down. This now marked the first time she'd been entirely naked in front of him. Anticipation had her abdominal muscles clenching, and she could feel his hand shaking as she took it and drew it down between her legs.

She was very, very wet and their fingertips glided easily against her folds. The blend of her familiar fingers and his rough, blunt ones was intensely arousing. Slowly, she drew their hands up and deliberately rubbed his fingers over her clit. "Feel that?" she asked, voice thin.

He chuckled a little, but it was strained. "Better than I could over your underwear." He sat up further so he could see, the sort of thing that ought to be awkward but under these circumstances managed to be really hot.

"Start gentle," she told him, demonstrating the pressure that felt best. "Then when I get into it you can be firmer." She released his hand and stroked up his wrist. "You can explore a little, too. It feels good when you touch me."

"You give great instructions," he told her. He took a very gentle, very thorough tour, tracing his fingers over every contour like he was trying to memorize her. Maybe he was. She had an inkling of how his mind worked. She knew how fast and precise it was. When he returned to her clit, he remembered the exact pressure she'd shown him.

The exploration had already wound her up like a spring. When he started to stroke her, she couldn't help but cry out, hips lifting. He startled a little and she gripped at his wrist. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

He nodded, and he didn't, but she felt his mouth on her breast again.

"Fuck," she whispered, burying her fingers in his hair to hold him there. It was like there was a line directly between her breast and her clit, drawn taut and heavy with pleasure. Her thighs squeezed together instinctively, trying to push herself higher, and she forced herself to open them again so he could move his hand.

"Harder," she whimpered, lifting up into his touch. "Fuck, Peter. Harder, please." He shifted his hand, pressing her clit with his thumb and curving one finger up inside her. Her body clenched around the intrusion and she whimpered again, hips bucking.

God it was so much more intense like this. Naked and sprawled under him, his hands on her. She let herself get lost in it, thrusting against his finger as his thumb pressed and rubbed, sending shocks of pleasure through her. Somewhere along the way she'd closed her eyes again, hands gripping the cover beneath her. His finger was stroking and his thumb was pressing and his mouth was sucking and then she was coming, hard, around and against him. She let out a sound that was just shy of a scream and her whole body arched, shaking.

The room was silent, except for her breathing. Then from him she heard a sigh, and reverently whispered, "Holy shit."

She laughed a little and discovered her abdominal muscles actually hurt a little from the force of that. Blindly, she reached out for him and he gathered her up in his arms. She kissed him, messy and lazy, humming her leftover pleasure.

"You okay?" he asked, sounding a little concerned.

She gave him a great smacking kiss on the mouth. "Okay? Were you not here a minute ago?"

"I know, I just. . . dude, that was really awesome to watch."

"I assure you, it was twice as awesome on my end." She kissed him again, slower this time, letting her hands wander him. "My turn?"

He let out a shaky breath. "It's honestly a miracle I am still in the game."

"Well, do some more math," she told him, nudging him onto his back and kneeling next to him. "I have a couple things I want to try."

He clenched his jaw. "Honey. I love you. But you need to pick one thing."

She flattened a hand on his stomach and started to undo his fly. "And you're good with anything I want?"

He watched her hand. "I can't think of anything that I could possibly not be good with, at this moment."

For a moment, she wished she was more conversant on weird kinks found in the depths of the internet, just for something that would freak him out. But he seemed rather on edge and she'd gotten his zipper down enough to tug his pants off so she decided to drop it.

It was her first good look at his penis and she decided she deserved a moment to study him the way he did her. Getting him naked had been outside the realm of practicality up until now. It was sort of an undignified looking thing. But when she ran a knuckle along the underside he shuddered and groaned and his cock twitched, so that was sort of fun.

He grumbled her name, sounding like she was torturing him, which wasn't actually her intention. So she went up on he knees, leaned down and gave him an experimental taste.

"Jesus," he gasped, nearly lifting up off the bed.

Salt and bitter and a weird tang that wasn't quite like anything else. Not gross or revolting. A pleasant surprise, really. She gave him an encouraging pat on the hip and closed her mouth around him, sliding down his length. She could only get about halfway down, but covered the rest with a fist, squeezing firmly before moving.

She'd spent the last couple days reading all the advice on this she could, but she found once she did it a lot of it was instinct and paying attention to his reactions. And it was more fun that she'd expected, probably the way stroking her had been fun for him. There was something to be said for giving the person you loved pleasure through your full intention.

He had a hand tangled in her hair, and suddenly his fingers tightened enough it hurt a little. That was the only warning she got.

The advice had been pretty mixed as far as spit vs swallow and she hadn't entirely made up her mind when she started this. The decision was made easier when the first spurt hit the back of her throat and she swallowed instinctively. She stayed where she was till he was done, deciding getting some in her eye or hair was not how she wanted to end the evening.

When she sat up she couldn't help the little face she made at the aftertaste.

"Sorry," he said, trying to catch his breath. "I should have warned you."

"There was hair pulling, I knew something was happening." She flopped down next to him on the bed, stretching and feeling quite proud of herself.

"That-that was amazing," he said. "Like. . ." He shook his head, apparently out of words.

She reached over and took his hand. "For a couple of rookies, I'm declaring us pretty good at this."

He rolled over onto his side to kiss her. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She really enjoyed saying that. "I look forward to the rest of our vacation together."

"We should probably leave the hotel for some of it."

"I really do want to drag you through some museums."

He flattened his hand on her stomach. "I will let you drag me anywhere on the planet."

Tracing her fingers along his arm, she said, "Want to order room service and go again?"

"You're the best girlfriend."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Okay, but we're not watching porn during Shark Week. I have limits."_

It was the best vacation Peter had ever been on in his entire life. They wandered around Florence, stuffed themselves with delicious food, and lounged around their hotel room having just so much sex. 

"Does this, like. . . count?" he asked her their last morning. "I mean, I guess technically we're still virgins. That just now feel like a ridiculous thing to say. Considering." 

She folded her arms behind her head. They'd decided they had time to squeeze one more round in before going to the airport. "Tying virginity to penis in vagina intercourse is ridiculous and outdated. It leaves out couples that don't have a penis or vagina between them and lets purity cultists call themselves virgins despite having anal sex. We've been naked and given each other orgasms. We've had sex."

"That's about what I thought. And I'm enjoying the hell out of this. We'll get around to the other thing eventually."

"August first," she informed him. At his look, she explained. "That's six weeks after my appointment. Whatever side effects I have should be done by then."

He grinned. "We'll put it on our calendar."

"I had FRIDAY put it in your schedule already."

Peter leaned over to kiss her neck. "I will reward you. Do we have five minutes?"

She twisted to check the time on the clock. "We have eight."

"Mmm, plenty of time."

The joy of private jets was that being a couple minutes late wasn't a cause of stress.

They spent the flight back cuddling in the seat and napping in the bedroom. They landed in New York mid afternoon and were met by Happy and Aunt May with the town car. There was a lot of hugging and they spent the ride into the city showing May all the pictures and sketches they'd made.

MJ had moved rather hastily into the Starks' house in Greenwich Village before their trip started, and he wanted to come with her to help her unpack. And he really wasn't looking forward to being away from her.

They pulled up in front of his apartment in Queens and he braced himself to say goodbye when he heard Aunt May sigh. "I suppose I won't be seeing much of you this summer."

He blinked in surprise. "I live with you."

"And your girlfriend is staying in an empty mansion. I love you to bits Pete, but I know familial ties don't beat that."

"You know I was technically not invited to live in that mansion. And this is actually a super awkward conversation to have with all of us sitting here." He paused. "But I'll take you up on tonight."

She kissed his cheek. "All I mean is, you're eighteen. Spend your nights where you wish, just check in so I don't worry. Welcome home." She reached past him to squeeze MJ's hand, then climbed out.

Peter cleared his throat. "Uh. Sorry if you wanted to be alone tonight. That's just. . .May."

"I'd rather sleep with you than alone," she said. "It's a big house and the Starks are in California."

"Does your room have a big enough bed?"

She chuckled a little. "Oh. Yeah it does."

"I was just picturing the room they put the nanny in or something. Twin bed kind of situation."

"No, no. It appeared to be a real guest room. Huge bed. Attached bath. View."

"Nice. Though, knowing them, they probably think it's bare minimum housing and may apologize for it."

"I'm not sure I won't have been upgraded when we get there today. At the time Pepper apologized and said it was the only room they had made up."

He laughed. "Yep." He reached out and took her hand. "I want to be able to stay the night. But I think I should probably not do it _full_ time. I don't want to somehow screw this up."

"I do have to work," she said. "They showed me the library and it's definitely going to take all summer to get it properly organized and shipped." She ran her thumb along his knuckles. "We could have dates."

"I'll take you somewhere nice. As of last week, I'm on the Avengers' payroll."

"Sounds like fun."

The car pulled up in front of the tall brick townhouse in the Village. Peter had been here a number of times before, but he'd never been past the public entertaining areas, other than Mr. Stark's workshop in the basement. He'd never seen the library MJ would be organizing. 

Happy helped bring their bags in, and showed them to a room that, judging by MJ's face, was not the one she'd slept in before the Europe trip. "My number is on the fridge," Happy told them. "My apartment is downstairs. I'll be in town a couple more days, then I'm heading out to California. Instructions on grocery delivery is in the kitchen as well and all your book supplies are in the library. If you need a restock let me know and I'll have some more delivered."

"Thanks, Happy," MJ said, looking at the huge wood bed. "I'll start work in the morning."

"This is a very nice room," Peter commented when he'd left.

"It is a least twice as large as the last one, which was perfectly fine." She went and poked her head in the bathroom. "I could swim laps in the tub."

"I feel like we should definitely give that a try."

"Top of the list," she agreed, walking back to him. "Want to see what the fridge is stocked with?"

"Yeah. Though, fair warning, they eat a lot of weird rich people food."

"By that do you mean foie gras or salad?"

"It's all super fancy organic stuff. Exotic vegetables. Etc." 

MJ chuckled and tugged his hand, heading for the hall. "I like fancy organic vegetables."

"I think there's junk food down in the workshop, and probably stashed elsewhere in the house. I just don't know if there's anything between fancy truffles and extra nacho doritos."

"It sounded like I'll be able to customize my food order for the next grocery delivery."

"I might even attempt to cook you something, if you feel brave."

That earned him a beautiful smile. "I'd like that."

The only thing in the fridge, as it turned out, was a gift card with a post-it on that had "Order Takeout" scrawled on it.

MJ sighed and laughed. "Well. What do you feel like eating? Not Italian."

"Please appreciate me not making the obvious dirty joke right now."

"Baby, if you could pin my ethnicity succinctly enough for an oral sex joke, I'd admire the hell out of you." She plucked the gift card out of the fridge and pulled out her phone. "I need sustenance if you're going to be keeping me up all night."

"Chinese? I feel like we'll regret spice."

"Mmm, I could definitely go for some pot stickers."

He pulled her close enough to kiss. "Order, and I'll entertain you while we wait."

She grinned and pressed up against him a moment, before turning to dial the local Chinese place.

The food arrived on time. . .but it was cold by the time they got around to eating it.

Chinese food had never been sexy until he watched MJ eat it naked in bed. "We should enjoy this while we can. My IUD appointment is Monday and I probably won't be in the mood for a while."

"Are you at all tempted to say the hell with it and just do what we've been doing?"

She considered it a moment, thoughtfully chewing her dumpling. "It's occurred to me. I really do like what we've been doing. But. . ." She paused and he could see her choosing her words. "There's a certain intimacy to having sex-sex. The idea of having you. . . inside me. Having it be more than just an orgasm but a real connection." She glanced away, wiping her hands off. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. It's stupid."

He reached out to catch her hand. "It's not stupid. And I really, really, absolutely want to. I just feel bad because you have to deal with all the hassle and discomfort." He went to scoop up some noodles and had to chase them with the chopsticks. "They really should have something better than condoms for dudes. I'd do it. My pain tolerance is _really_ high."

"If it makes you feel better, I'd probably be doing it even without you. I mean, I'd make non-you people wear condoms but. . . I'm still not 100% sure I want kids and I sure as shit don't want them at eighteen. Having a kid fucked up both my parents lives and I have a lot of unsavory stuff swimming in my gene pool. An IUD was pretty high on my college necessities."

"In that case I will take good care of you while you feel shitty."

She smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I know you will."

*

The IUD insertion wasn't nearly as bad as MJ had built it up in her head. A little cramp and some deep breaths and it was done. May had taken the day off work to drive her - it felt weird to make Peter do it - and took her out for a sundae afterwards before driving her back to the Greenwich house.

Peter spent the afternoon and evening pampering her and she started bleeding a bit before bedtime. The next day she felt crampy and bloated, but put her comfiest sweatpants on and buried herself in the library. She did her cataloging and organizing and Peter helpfully carried piles of books for her.

On day three the hovering got to be a bit much and she shooed him out of the house. "Go catch some purse snatchers or something," she ordered him. "I need a little me time."

"I love you," he called, and he went without complaint.

She was able to get a lot done that day and the next. Peter spent the nights at his place, but called her at bedtime to say goodnight. He didn't sound put out at having to keep his distance, which was nice. She loved him, and liked spending time with him, but was also used to having a lot of alone time.

A week out from her appointment, the bleeding picked up in intensity. She spent a good portion of the day in the tub, soaking and hating life. That was the worst of it, and it petered off into something approximating a normal period, which she considered a good sign.

"Aunt May is worried about you," he said on the phone that night. "She was asking me questions about pad usage? I told her I didn't want to know about those things and I got a lecture. Also, if I ever call it Shark Week in her presence again I have to sleep on the fire escape."

"You may tell her it has stabilized to a normal period," she told him, stretching out in her hilariously huge bed. "And you can call it Shark Week in front of me all you want."

"I don't suppose I could interest you in a movie?" He paused. "Actually, I think there's a theatre in that house, isn't there? You wouldn't even have to put real pants on."

"That would be great," she said. "FRIDAY can dig up just about any movie you want to watch. Including porn."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Except she could hear him swallow, and then clear his throat. "And. . .how do you know that?"

She grinned, tempted to make him sweat a little. "If you think I haven't spent my down time trying to stump the AI then I question if you know me at all."

"Okay, but we're not watching porn during Shark Week. I have limits."

"Agreed," she said, laughing. "But yes. Come over, we can snuggle and watch something."

"I will be there in an hour."

She put on matching tank top and pj pants and went downstairs to put together some snacks for the movie. By the time he arrived she had a tray of crackers, veggies, meat and cheese to munch on. He, in return, had brought cookies from her favorite bakery in Queens.

"I love you," she told him solemnly, kissing him hello.

"In the interest of honesty, that was May's idea."

"I kinda love her, too."

He took the tray and the box, and they went upstairs to the theatre—which was just a room with a big screen and a bunch of recliners. She'd brought up some comfy blankets earlier.

"So," she said as they got settled in adjoining recliners. "What kind of movie you in the mood for?"

"I'm down for anything that's not going to make you cry, and is not so gross I can't stop thinking about it later."

They had FRIDAY cycle through some action comedies until there was one they agreed on. She then helpfully dimmed the lights and started the credits. MJ curled up in her chair, resting her head on Peter's shoulder. Eventually, his hand moved so he could rub her back, but it was comforting more than suggestive. It didn't feel like he was fishing.

The movie was big on explosions and jokes and thin on plot. MJ found her eyes drifting shut more and more as his back rub relaxed her. She'd been putting in some long days and it was getting close to the time she usual went to bed. So she gave into it, dozing on his shoulder.

She had no idea when the movie ended, the next thing she knew it was dark and he was lifting her up to carry her upstairs. He moved like she weighed nothing. She supposed to him, she did.

"'M awake," she mumbled, looping an arm around his neck.

He chuckled. "You are not even remotely awake."

She yawned, trying to think of a good argument. Before she could, he was setting her down on the bed. "Stay?"

He was standing next to the bed, and then he was on the bed on the other side of her. He'd levitated himself over her using the headboard, because he could do things like that. She found it hot when she was more awake. "There is nowhere I'd rather be," he told her.

He got them both under the covers, with minimal effort from her, and she settled against him, head pillowed on his chest. She was delighted to find he'd taken his shirt off somewhere in the process. "Night, Peter."

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered, rubbing her back in slow circles.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Dude! What is up with this house?" And there was Ned. "This is bigger than my apartment_ building _."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Enjoy your smut.

Based on some worse case scenario googling and Aunt May's horror stories, Peter was expecting to take care of a cramping, unhappy girl friend for most of the summer. So he was pleasantly surprise that, while eating breakfast on July 4th, he received a text message from MJ.

_The sharks have officially moved out. I know it's kind of cliche, but you want to come over and have firework sex?_

Before he could formulate a reply, she added, _Additionally, you want to call Ned and the usual suspects and see if they want to come over for steak and fireworks? Pretty sure you can see them from the roof here._

He stared at his phone a moment, then texted back, _Those are two separate things, right? We're not hosting a weird roof orgy?_

_Peter, I enjoy spending time with Ned, he's super fun, but I NEVER want to see him naked._

_Me neither. Though apparently May thought we were together at one point. Funny story I'll tell you later._

_Yeah, I'm gonna need to hear that one. Was that a yes on impromptu non-orgy party?_

_Yes to non-orgy sex, too._

_I assumed. I'm going to go get food. Can you handle the invitations?_

_On it,_ he replied. He could just send out a mass text.

Replies trickled in over the next hour. Then MJ pinged him again. _Food acquired. Feel free to come over any time._

He took the subway over like a normal person, though he brought his suit, just in case. A lot of people were stupid on the 4th of July, particularly with accidental explosions and fires. All he could do was hope their evening was not interrupted.

When he got there, MJ was in the kitchen putting steaks in marinade. She was in a tank top and cut off shorts, hair piled up on top of her head in a messy knot. "Hi, handsome," she said without looking up. "I probably bought too much food."

He tried not to stare at her ass in those shorts, and then reminded himself that she was his girlfriend and had probably put them on for that purpose. After a moment, he realized she'd expected some sort of reply, and looked up at his silence. "Sorry," he said. "I love summer."

"Sometimes I feel like I need to wear a muumuu to get a coherent conversation out of you," she said affectionately. Leaning over, she kissed him then carried the dish of steak and marinade over to the fridge. "Open for me, please."

He dutifully held open the door. It was the sort of enormous fridge you'd expect in a restaurant. Once she'd put the dish in and closed the door, he backed her up against it and kissed her. Mostly so he could put his hands on her ass.

She was not, as best he could tell, wearing underwear.

"Lemme wash my hands," she murmured. "So I can touch you back."

"Maybe I'm enjoying having you at my mercy," he replied. The cut off edges of the shorts were loose enough he could get his fingers underneath.

Her brow quirked. "Well. That has potential."

"Doesn't it?" He nudged her legs apart a little so he could touch her better. "You're the one who went commando."

"I beg your pardon, I'm wearing a perfectly serviceable thong."

There it was. Just as easy to get his fingers under that, too, and it made her shudder. "Should I stop?"

Her lids fluttered. "What time did you tell people to come for the party?"

"Two. Plenty of time."

"Mmm. Then by all means. Don't stop."

By now he knew exactly how to touch her, where her buttons were and how to wind her up. She kissed his neck and made little noises—when she came he felt teeth. That was probably going to leave a mark.

"You're making me regret my party idea," she told him after she'd caught her breath.

He kissed her shoulder. "Nah, we'll need a break."

She sighed softly and leaned on him a moment. "Okay, now we should both wash our hands."

"And then maybe go upstairs?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

"And then _definitely_ go upstairs."

He loved this woman.

They had to take a shower afterwards, and he left her dealing with her hair to go down and put the grill on. He really, really hoped today was not the day he burned down Mr. Stark's fancy house. That would suck a lot.

The grill, fortunately, was also very fancy, which meant it was somewhat idiot proof. By the time the first of the guests were ringing the bell, they had steaks and corn on the cob merrily heating up.

"Dude! What is up with this house?" And there was Ned. "This is bigger than my apartment _building_." 

"Come out here," Peter called. "There's a yard."

By the time the food was done, everyone had showed up. MJ was playing hostess and clearly having fun. She handed out food and drinks, took people on tours of the half packed library and curated the play list the FRIDAY had pumping through the speakers.

It was a bizarrely _adult_ feeling party. Like this was the sort of thing grownups did with their holiday weekends.

Once people had eaten, they retreated to the home theater for a hilariously bad Captain America movie to kill time till the fireworks began. By the time it finished, they headed up to the roof to see what kind of view they had.

"It occurs to me," Peter said. "That if we didn't have the party, we could have gone and watched them from like the top of a skyscraper."

"Now you tell me," she grumbled, settling on his lap. "Would've been cold."

You could, in fact, sort of see the fireworks from the show over the Hudson. About half the bursts made it up over the buildings and trees to be visible, the rest were a flickering, colored glow. You could definitely hear them, and it made for a surprisingly nice show. The roof had a cozy lounge area with couches and chairs.

Last year he'd watched the East River ones from the top of the Brooklyn Bridge, alone. This was better.

Almost as soon as the show ended, the sirens started.

Peter tensed a little, warring with himself.

MJ kissed his cheek and climbed off his lap. "Go."

He blew out a breath. "No, no. I signed the Accords. I don't go unless somebody calls me. The FDNY has my number—those are fire trucks. Unless it's a high-rise fire-"

His phone started ringing.

She smiled. "Go. You know where to find me when it's over."

"I hate my job a little right now," he told her.

"I know. But most of the time you don't. Go save lives. I'll wait up as long as I have to."

"I love you." He put on his suit and his friends cheered for him as he kissed her and then swung off the roof.

There were, as it turned out, no lives to save. Just morons who tried to set off fireworks from the top of a 36 story building, and set the roof on fire. It still took until midnight before he got his soot-covered self back home.

The house was dark, save for a light where her room was. He landed on the roof, surprised to find most of the party mess cleaned up. Tromping downstairs, he hoped he wasn't ruining the carpet with his sooty feet.

MJ was in bed, reading, hair still up, in a silky camisole thing. She looked up when he entered and wrinkled her nose. "Wow."

"New Yorkers are idiots," he said. He pointed at the bathroom. "I'm going to go shower." He decided to strip down to his boxers in the doorway so he didn't track anymore soot. The laundry bot could deal with his suit.

He had the water running and was about to step in when MJ appeared in the doorway. "You want company?"

"I never say no to naked you, but I am pretty gross right now. Fair warning."

"Well, I have a vested interest in getting you ungross." She stepped into the room, tugging her nightie off. "I'll scrub your back."

The water was hot now, so he stepped inside, hoping to wash at least some of the dirt off before she got in there. The water was still running a little grey when she joined him, hair piled up on top of her head in an effort to keep it out of the water. She grinned at him and stepped behind him before he could try to catch her for a kiss.

A moment later, her hands touched his back. She hand some of that sugar scrub stuff she used on her skin and started to rub it into his back in big circles.

He groaned. "That feels really good."

"So you concede my girly indulgences have a purpose?"

He braced his hands on the shower walls. "I will concede anything you ask me to right now."

"Oh, the possibilities." She finished her massage, all the way down to his hips, then nudged him gently to get the spray of water directly onto his back to wash the scrub away. "You're looking decidedly less gross already."

"Do I still smell like burning asphalt?"

He felt her step close, then nuzzle his shoulder. "Mmm, no." Her hands stroked down his arms and she pressed a kiss to his throat. "Not even a whiff of smoked tar."

"Turn the water off," he said, pulling her out of the shower once she did so. They had enormous bath towels, so he wrapped one around the both of them.

She made one of her happy noises, wrapping her arms around him. "Hi handsome," she whispered.

"Hi," he replied, kissing her. "You still wanna do this tonight?"

"If we don't, I will murder you. I've been reading porn for two hours waiting on you."

When that statement processed, he _felt_ it. "You kill me." He scooped her up and carried her out into the bedroom.

"I felt it my womanly duty to prepare myself for you," she told him solemnly.

"Hey, if you wanna do my work for me. . ." He set her down on the bed, unwrapping the towel and using it to better dry her off. When he was done, he leaned back to just admire her, laying there on what was certainly extremely expensive sheets. She was so pretty, so perfect. And for the night she was all his.

A grin spread across her face. "You're looking at me like I'm a snack."

"I think dessert is more appropriate." He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, and found her very wet. "Wow, you weren't kidding." He said it reverently.

She was still grinning, even as her eyes fluttered. "I got a little wound up."

"I can tell." He sank his fingers into her, pressing her clit in little circles with his thumb. Her mouth opened on a cry, back arching. He could feel her squeeze around him as he started to stroke her. He really did know all her buttons by now. Knew how to tell she was close, when to press harder. Right now he wanted to wind her up more, so he kept his thumb light.

He stretched out next to her so he could kiss her, and she turned towards him. "Sorry for the wait," he whispered.

She whimpered a little, gripping at his hip. "I'll wait for you as long as I need."

"I may need you to tell me about the things you read." She was starting to rock against his hand, so he stopped, trailing his fingers over her skin up her body to cup her breast. 

That earned him a frustrated noise. "Need ideas?" He pinched her nipple and her back arched. "Fuck, Peter."

He bent over her to take it in his mouth. "Anytime you're ready, honey."

"You're waiting on _me_?" She rolled fully onto her side, hooking her leg over his hips. She arched and the tip of his cock slid against her folds. 

He brain short circuited for a moment. It probably, objectively, didn't feel better than her mouth. But he thought it did. Anticipation was a heck of a drug. He also didn't think they had the skill to do it this way. "Come here," he said, pulling her with him so he could roll onto his back.

"You're gonna make me do all the work?" she teased, sitting up to straddle him. He saw the flicker of nerves in her face as she lifted up on her knees, reaching down to try to get him lined up with her.

"Seemed like the better. . ." he trailed off, distracted, as she managed to get a little bit of him inside her. Holy shit, did that feel good.

MJ was breathing hard, still up on her knees. Catching her lip in her teeth, she lowered herself a little more, then stopped and rocked up. The next time she eased down even farther, head falling back. After a couple more up and downs she sank down completely, ass resting on his thighs. He was completely buried inside her, and could feel gentle twitches of her inner muscles against him. He had to take a couple of breaths, afraid for a moment he might come right then. Then he looked up at her, reaching to rub her thighs. "You okay?"

She nodded, taking deep breaths. "It didn't hurt. Just . . . tight." She flattened a palm on his chest, trembling a little. "You feel so good."

"That's, um, an understatement." He didn't want her to move, but also thought he might die if she didn't.

After another heartbeat or two, she gave an experimental rock of her hips that made them both groan. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head, then started to move in earnest, up and down.

"Oh, my God," he said, because they were the only words he could find. Her slick heat closed around him every time she sank down, and then she'd squeeze him and his vision would go white for a second. He didn't know how she knew how to do that, but he almost couldn't take it. Not that he ever wanted her to stop.

"Good," she mumbled. "You feel so good." Her pace picked up, breasts swinging with the force she was now using. "I didn't think-" She squeezed around him again, tight, and shifted her angle again, grinding on him in short rough strokes. "God, oh God. Please. Close, I'm close." Her head fell back, eyes closed, lost in it. The squeezing grew harder, then started to come in waves, the same rhythm as her rocking hips.

She gave a little cry, nails digging into his thighs. "Coming, I'm coming."

It was perhaps the hottest thing he'd ever seen or felt. He'd made her come plenty of times, being inside her, watching her ride him as she came apart. . . He made a desperate noise and bucked up to her, losing whatever touch with reality he had left.

He thought he heard her say his name. He was too far gone to pay attention. At some point she sank down onto his chest, gasping against his throat as they both calmed down.

"Wow," he breathed, reaching up to rub her back. "So that's what all the fuss is about."

She laughed and he could _feel_ it where they were connected. "Yeah."

"I can't believe I suggested skipping it."

"You're really dumb sometimes," she said, with a self suffering sigh.

"Also, I was told by reliable sources—one of them being you—that you wouldn't be able to get off from just sex."

"I said it was statistically improbable. You had me pretty close before we started." She stretched up to kiss him. "You felt _really good_."

"I want to be proud, but I'm pretty sure that's mostly genetics."

"Probably." Carefully, she eased herself off of him, stretching out beside him. "Well, I know what I want to do for the rest of the weekend."

"Yeah, I'm in favor of just locking ourselves in here." He pushed up on his arm. They were both now rather sticky. "I didn't consider the mess level, though." Her on top had probably made that as bad as it could be, too. 

She groaned. "This will be what? Our third shower of the day?"

"Eh." He sat up enough to fish the towel off the floor and used it to clean them up. "We're just going to get messy again in an hour."

She lay still while he wiped them off, tossing the towel aside again. Then she lifted her arms so he could curl up with her. "Love you," she mumbled into his hair.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Though that does explain why when we were on the battlefield Mr. Stark hugged me like I retuned from the dead. Since I did."_

MJ's dorm move in was in the middle of August, and Peter's in September, but they were moving out west for hers, and he'd stay at the Avengers compound until Stanford started. The week before, the Starks came back to New York to decide what from the house they wanted to have out in their California house—including what books of those MJ had spent the summer meticulously organizing. It felt a little bit like her first performance review.

"I decided a database was more user friendly than a spreadsheet," she was explaining to Pepper. "You can search by author, title, Dewey Decimal number, topic or more esoteric things like age, rarity, price. "They're boxed up by topic, but nothing is sealed, so if you want to dig particular ones out to sell or send out, it should be pretty straightforward to find them. I've added notes regarding provenance where I could find it."

"Thank you. I'll need to go through it - I have no idea what's here."

She looked over at her. "You bought most of the rare ones at auction. How can you not know what you have?"

Pepper looked at her a long moment. "How much have you heard about what really happened with Thanos?"

"Um. I know he was trying to collect a bunch of stones to kill half the universe. Peter and Tony fought him in space. Everyone else fought him on earth. He retreated and came back a couple weeks later to destroy the compound, where they beat him for good."

She sighed. "There's a middle part. Only a few of us remember it, and only the larger team knows about it. We didn't tell Peter because it's a lot to handle, but if he's going to be an Avenger and you guys are going to be around the compound, you should know. Originally, Thanos won. He got the stones, and turned half of the universe to dust. I know that Peter and May were among those dusted. The remaining Avengers managed to get stones for themselves and undid it. At that point it had been five years."

MJ stared at her a moment, letting her brain process that. "So you all have five years of, what? The post-apocalypse that you remember?"

"Yes. During that 5 years, Morgan was born. When Tony held the glove, he made his requests from the stones vague, mostly I think because he was in too much pain to do otherwise. He wanted Morgan to be here now. The stones rewrote our pasts to make it happen. I have no memory of buying this house, or anything in it. Had a wedding I don't remember, either."

"Wow." She looked back at her database. "Just when I think this had all gotten as weird as it could."

"I'll give you weirder. I was pregnant with Morgan before Thanos's original thing, which is why we agreed. Morgan was here in the past, but so was this one." She gestured to her very visible bump. "There was a period of time we were very... concerned. But it's a boy."

"That doesn't even make any sense," MJ said. "How did a girl embryo become a boy embryo?"

"Those stones can do anything, apparently. He also resurrected all the battlefield dead."

"Huh." She considered a moment. "Am I allowed to tell Peter all of this?"

"I wouldn't have told you otherwise. I'm a big proponent of honesty in relationships."

She nodded. "Well. I'm sorry. About the five years. That sounds like a shitty thing to have to remember."

"It was a very bad time. Does make me appreciate the present more, though. The second chance."

"Makes sense. Sometimes it's the bad times that define us the best."

Pepper smiled. "I think that could be the family motto."

"Certainly of the big, weird one you've cobbled together." Which was MJ's favorite thing about the Starks, really. The pack they'd grown around themselves.

"Speaking of. . . Do you need things for school? Dorm stuff, clothes, that sort of thing?"

"Um. . . yes?" She still hadn't decided if the casual, off-hand way the Starks threw money around made it easier or harder to accept the help. "I mean, I own clothes, but could use some bedding and wouldn't say no to help with my books."

"All your books are covered with the tuition regardless," Pepper replied. "I moved into college by myself with a second hand suitcase. My roommate was from a family of yuppies, and she had a matching bedding set and her own computer—this was 1995, that was a huge deal. She kept asking me where my parents were."

"Did you short sheet her bed?" MJ asked sincerely.

Pepper laughed. "In the snarkiest tone I could muster, I replied that my mother was dead and my father was a drunk and she should get used to spending a year living with white trash." She shook her head. "Next thing I know I'm in Target with a cart full of matching bedding."

That was a way nicer end to the story than MJ had expected. "She adopted you?"

"More or less. Her family wasn't wealthy. We actually didn't even have a whole lot in common. But it was one of the kindest things anybody ever did for me."

"People surprise you sometimes, I guess."

"We lost touch after graduation. Twenty years later, I tell Tony this story, he tracks her down and pays her mortgage."

"God." MJ laughed, covering her eyes. "Can generosity be pathological?"

"It's not the worst addiction to have."

"True." If one had infinite money, which Stark certainly seemed to have.

"So, what do you say? When we get to California we'll go shopping?"

"It's a date."

"Less fun thing," she said after a moment. "Now that you're 18, we could likely make a legal case for you to have conservatorship over your mother, if that's something you want to do. We could also just leave it alone, or split the difference and hire a lawyer to look after her affairs."

MJ had always assumed that, when she left, her mother would just quietly implode. She wasn't willing to spend the rest of her life parenting her, and her mother had never shown any willingness to help herself long term. There had been periods of calm, when she'd find a medication that worked and take it consistently. Usually because she'd done something bad enough to go on a psych hold or otherwise committed. The last one had been when MJ was just starting high school. But they never lasted more than a month or two after leaving the facility. Mom thought the medicines were poison and the doctors were lying. And no one and nothing could convince her otherwise.

Part of her wanted to wash her hands of her. She'd spend her teenage years keeping them both afloat as best she could, while still making top grades and getting into her dream school. She'd earned her retirement, so to speak.

Still. She was her mom.

"Can we get a lawyer for now?" she suggested. "And later on if I'm comfortable with it, I can take on conservatorship."

Pepper nodded. "We'll see to it."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Pepper rubbed her back. "Come on. Give me a tour of my books."

They spent the rest of the afternoon going through the book inventory. When Mr. Stark and Peter reappeared from packing up the lab, they ordered dinner in.

Later, in bed, she caught Peter up on what Pepper had told her about the missing years.

"Holy shit. Five years? I can't imagine." He looked over at her. "Though that does explain why when we were on the battlefield Mr. Stark hugged me like I retuned from the dead. Since I did."

"She said May was gone, too. They weren't sure about me. But apparently when he dusted Thanos's army Mr. Stark made a lot of stuff happen. So they have this whole life and relationship they don't remember. Like buying this house."

"That kind of sucks. To miss all that."

"It has to be some sort of mind fuck," she said, tilting her head to work oil into her hair. "But it explains why she didn't know she owned a first edition _Man and Superman_."

"Mr. Stark has robots in the basement that he was very surprised to find there. He thought they'd blown up with the compound. It's crazy but I thought he might cry."

"That's kind of sweet," she said. "He loves his 'bots."

"I'm going to miss the laundry bot, that's for sure."

She groaned, putting her bottles on the side table and tying her hair up with a scarf. "Gonna have to start hoarding quarters again."

"Mine are all digital. At least that's what the packet said. You swipe your student card."

"Oooo," she teased. "Fancy."

"I'm going to miss this," he said. "Getting to sleep with you in a nice big bed. I feel like we've been spoiled."

"We're _absolutely_ been spoiled. But we'll have weekends and breaks. And I think a little space will be good. Ensure we live our own lives."

"No, I agree. It's mostly the bed, to be honest. Wait until we're sharing a twin in a room with roommates."

"That will suck," she conceded. "But you'll have a place at the compound. We could go there to get space and privacy."

"So it'll be a sex shack. More or less."

"Only with a custom luxury bed instead of a flip-n-fuck."

He reached out to tickle her. "We fuck with class."

Squirming away, she grabbed a pillow to swat him with. "We're full of class."

He caught the pillow, tossing it out of the way and pinning her beneath him so he could kiss her. "Sometimes."

She wiggled deliberately against him, grinning. "I like when you pin me."

"Mmm. We should enjoy this big bed while we have it."

"Definitely." She stretched up to kiss him. "It'd be easier to tie me to a twin, though."

He groaned. "I'll keep that in mind."

*

They flew out to California in a Stark jet, and landed at their compound out there. It was still under construction, though it was so foggy he couldn't see much at all. They'd spend the night there, and then in the morning drive across the bay to move MJ into her dorm.

"I'm nervous," she admitted, leaning her head on Peter's shoulder. "What if my roommate sucks?"

"They didn't give you any info at all?" Peter had known his roommate since earlier in the summer. They hadn't met because he was from Oregon, but they'd certainly talked online. The guy was super excited he was rooming with Spiderman.

"No, I sent my stuff in late because I was figuring out paying for it. They said I'd get my assignment on move-in day."

"If she sucks, we'll deal with it. I promise."

"You're starting to sound like your mentor, dear."

Peter chucked. "That's not the worst thing. But I'll keep it in mind."

"Just don't adopt your whole dorm floor. Or mine, for that matter."

"Well. . . I can't get into my trust fund until I'm 25 anyway."

"Poor baby."

When they got off the plane, he introduced her to the rest of the team. He was particularly excited for her to meet Doc, because he thought they'd get along. The adults threw a little reception in their game room, most of which he and MJ spent playing a bunch of awesome vintage arcade games. Then Mrs. Stark took them shopping to get things for MJ's dorm. They took one of the SUV's so they could load whatever they needed in the back to be taken over. It was, he realized, the first time he'd ever seen Mrs. Stark actually drive a car herself.

It was the most normal-ish experience he'd ever had with any of the Starks.

"I think the rug might have been overkill," MJ mused on the way home.

Mrs. Stark glanced over at her. "You'll be glad of it when you're sinking your feet into it on the way to your morning classes."

They put MJ's suitcases and boxes in the back before they went to bed, because she and Peter were heading out early in the morning. Peter's house at the compound was more of a cabin than anything else, but it was very nicely furnished, with a king-sized bed. "You think it's be weird if we come here on the weekends just for sex?"

"I mean, we should probably interact with your teammates, too. And maybe do laundry."

"I wonder. . ." He walked towards the bathroom, and opened a sliding pocket door, and there was a washer and dryer. "Ha!"

"See?" MJ said, wrapping her arms around his back and leaning. "Definitely bringing my laundry here."

"Sounds like a great weekend to me."

"Mmm." She kissed the back of his neck. "Wanna break in the bed?"

He turned around and picked her up. "You read my mind."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He should go run the hallway gauntlet and shake hands, much as he wanted to crawl out the window and down the side of the building. That would certainly give everyone a show._

They got up early to drive across to Berkley. They had a specific time to be there, and a limited parking window. The lot was full of families unloading vehicles with basically the same stuff they were. Some had dollies and there seemed to be carts owned by the university. It didn't even occur to Peter to bring that kind of thing anymore. He tried to arrange things so he wouldn't be too conspicuous with all he was carrying.

Then MJ dropped her water bottle, and it rolled under the SUV. Without thinking, because he was distracted by his box tetris, he leaned over and grabbed the tail hitch, lifting the back of the SUV up so she could get her water bottle.

You could have heard a pin drop in that parking lot.

MJ straightened, holding the bottle in triumph. She scanned the crowd, then looked at him holding up the SUV bumper, and sighed. "Well. There's that."

He put the SUV down slowly. "They're still on stunned. Let's grab our shit and run for it." Deciding it didn't matter now, he used the webshooter he had in his watch to lash the boxes and bags together, and just picked the whole thing up. "Go, go."

She scooped up her bag and put a hand on his back following close behind as he headed into the dorm.

The upperclassman at the front desk was apparently too bored and uninterested to notice him carrying a car worth of boxes. She gave MJ a key and room number and they headed for the elevators.

He set the boxes down inside, and said, "Maybe it's less obvious if I drag them."

"Try that," MJ said, hitting the button for her floor. "And hope my floor mates aren't observant."

They got it all the way down the hall. If people looked, Peter didn't make eye contact. There was no sign of her roommate, which let them unbox things is peace.

He helped her make her bed and unpack her clothes. They spread the cushy rug on the floor next to her bed and hung the string of paper lanterns near the ceiling.

MJ put her hands on her hips. "It looks homey."

Before he could answer, the door swung open. "Here, this is--" The older man in the doorway broke off. "Oh my God, it's the guy from the parking lot."

Peter cleared his throat. "Hi."

"You're Spiderman," the guy said, sounding stunned.

A girl their age ducked around him. She stared at Peter a moment, then turned to MJ and stuck out a hand. "Hi. Astrid. I'm your roommate."

"MJ," she replied, shaking her hand. "Also known as Spiderman's girlfriend."

"Nice to meet you," Astrid said. 

"Can I have your autograph?" the man asked. 

"Dad!"

"I didn't know people still did that," Peter said. "But sure."

Astrid looked like she wanted the floor to open up swallow her as her father dug in his pockets and handed Peter an IKEA receipt to sign the back of. MJ gave her a companionable pat on the shoulder.

"You need any help carrying your stuff?" Peter asked.

"I do have another load in the car," the dad said hesitantly.

Peter clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Show me the way."

By the time they got the rest of Astrid's things inside, a crowd had formed in the hallway, and Peter felt very bad about it.

MJ, bless her, took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I think our parking time slot is running out."

"I don't want to leave you in all this mess." Though they'd probably go away once he did. He should go run the hallway gauntlet and shake hands, much as he wanted to crawl out the window and down the side of the building. That would certainly give everyone a show.

"It's okay. I love you, but I don't think I'm nearly as interesting as you. And I'd like to get to know Astrid a little."

"Okay," he said, leaning down to kiss her. "Call me if you need me."

"I promise. Have a good day, I'll talk to you tonight either way."

He took a breath, and went out into the hallway to greet his fans. He had no idea how Mr. Stark did this all the time. It was mostly other freshmen, so while they stared there was a certain frozen star-struck vibe that kept them from being too pushy. No one else asked for an autograph at least.

The weeks between then and when he started school were filled with training in the Avengers compound. He and MJ talked all the time, but they didn't see as much of each other as they'd have liked. It was the new normal, though, and they adjusted.

His move-in was a lot less dramatic. Stanford had a protocol for famous people moving in, and since Happy and Mr. Stark came along with him and MJ and Aunt May, he was not the most exciting person in his entourage anyway. It was nice.

"Your dorm room is definitely nicer than mine," MJ teased once they got him unpacked.

"Well. Private school. You're slumming it at a state school."

"Mmm, clearly." His bed wasn't any bigger than hers, they barely fit in it. "This is downright slumming given what you've gotten used to."

He leaned over to kiss her. "That's all your fault."

She tucked her hand under his shirt, curling over his ribs. "I'm sure Stark would have found an excuse to let you live the high life."

"We could go to the compound this weekend. Sleep in the grownup bed."

"Don't have to ask me twice. I want to do some sketches of the view again."

It occurred to him, he probably had some sort of orientation. "Might have to be next weekend, actually."

She made a face, but nodded. "Sure. I'm flexible."

He spent his entire orientation weekend confirming to everyone he met that yes, he was Spiderman. He hoped eventually, like the city of New York, the Bay Area would get used to him.

"They stopped interrogating me after the first few days," MJ told him on the phone that night. "I am less visibly famous, though."

"Mr. Stark told me I need to get used to it."

"You do tend to be kinda flashy," she said gently.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "So, Friday? You're good to come over?" They'd underestimated how bad Bay Area traffic was (and how inadequate its public transit). "I have to go borrow a car anyway, I think it's fastest to loop up and pick you up at the BART station." 

"Yep. I ordered a Clipper card this weekend, it's supposed to show up mid week. So I'm all set."

"We will lock the door and not come out all weekend."

"Have you stocked up on Gatorade and Power bars?"

"The Rec Room is literally stocked with that. Doc has a thing."

"It delights me that a woman with her personality is somehow Team Mom."

The door to his room opened, and his roommate, Justin, came in. He waved and went over to his desk. "I should go," Peter said. "We both have class tomorrow."

He could hear her yawn. "All right, all right. Have fun in molecular chem. I'll see you Friday."

There was no way for him to get over to the Avengers Compound by transit, so he usually borrowed a car from the Starks, because they lived on the same side of the peninsula as him. He'd take the bus over to the offices Stark Industries had in Palo Alto and catch a lift with Mrs. Stark going home—or Mr. Stark picking up Morgan from school, if it was early enough. 

Peter called Mr. Stark mid-morning to see if the latter as feasible, and got, "This is ridiculous. I'll be there at 12:30 and we'll fix this."

He had no idea what, exactly, they were fixing, until he ended up at a car dealership.

"Pepper made me promise to buy you a normal car. I have no idea what that means, but there's four different brands on this lot. Surely one of them is acceptable."

They were, Peter noted, all German brands. "One is Porsche," he felt compelled to point out.

"Do you want a Porsche?"

Peter laughed. "No, I just wanted to borrow one of your cars."

"The one you usually borrow is Mercedes."

"You know I have nowhere to park this thing, right?"

"No parking lots at Stanford?"

"I have to be assigned a spot. There's a lottery, and it's long over."

Mr. Stark waved a hand. "I'll buy you one. What about an Audi? Doc drives an Audi, she's sort of normal."

"Sounds good," he replied. Peter liked to be responsible and humble and normal and all that. But he was also an 18 year old guy with a taste for adrenaline and a superhero-ing hobby. He was well aware that if he'd so much as asked, he'd have rolled out of there in a 911. So he decided he wasn't going to feel bad about getting the convertible model of the mildly souped-up Audi coupe he ended up with.

"It's so nice to have someone around with taste," Mr. Stark said as they finished up the paperwork.

"I don't know if I'd go that far. But thank you. This is really cool. You can tell your wife the red was my fault."

"I will do that, yes. Have fun with your girl."

Peter took a picture of it and texted it to MJ. _So this happened._

_It was really only a matter of time._

_Wanted to warn you about the convertible for your hair._

_I'll tie a scarf around it like a proper lady._

It was really, really fun to drive up there. The freeway was curvy and the kind of road you could get some speed going. He probably shouldn't be speeding at all—he'd only learned to drive that summer—but his enhanced senses meant he could probably weave through traffic at speed if he wanted to.

He got to the BART station well before MJ's train came in. He didn't have a ticket to get past the turnstile, so met her outside the station, where she threw herself at him and he swung her around as if they had been parted by war.

He hurried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent. "Hi. I missed you."

"I missed you, too." She lifted her head and kissed him. "Let's go to the love shack."

He pulled her along. "Come see my awesome car."

She ooo'ed and ahh'ed as expected, then produced a pretty scarf to wrap around her hair to protect it from the wind. She paired it with a pair of dark sunglasses, looking like an old Hollywood star.

"You knock me over sometimes, you know that?"

"You're the one picking me up in a convertible," she said with a grin.

"I don't know, if it had a top I'd be tempted to test out the back seat."

"Maybe another time."

There was a perfectly civil and wide freeway he could take over to the compound from where he was. There were also windy, twisty, two-lane mountain-hugging backroads he could take. And he had a brand new car.

MJ was a good sport about the whole thing, laughing and squealing at a few of the turns.

"You do remember I'm not an indestructible spider person, right?" she asked when they got to the compound.

"I'd catch you," he told her. He pulled up in front of his cabin. The moment he turned the car off, she climbed over the gearshift to kiss him.

"So you liked the drive?" he murmured.

"I didn't hate it," she conceded with a grin.

He hit the button to slide the seat back, and climbed up to carrying her over the door without opening it. Because he could do shit like that. 

"That was incredibly hot," she told him as he carried her towards the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is the end of part one. I'm going to keep this open and post part two in here once it's written given the large number of subscribers (Hi y'all). Not sure when that's going to be, but it won't be too long. This is the most popular story in this series--we'll finish it.
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting so far!


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